


The Hunter

by Nicicia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Corruption, Dark Eren, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mild Gore, Modern SnK World, Murder, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Protective Eren, Romantic Friendship, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicicia/pseuds/Nicicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People often think killers are entirely cruel, cold, and heartless. In the case of Eren Jaeger, this is couldn't be further from the truth.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Eren, Armin and Mikasa are 16 years old.

  

 

Levi, a man of an age few would guess by looking at him, and a height which only contributed to that fact, clicked the OFF button on the TV remote and stared at the blank screen. “Still nothing. Seems mainstream media don’t bother reporting murders of society’s lowest. Corrupt piece of trash. The police are probably half-assing their way through a sorry excuse of an investigation too. If they’re bothering to investigate at all.”

“They’re just confirmed disappearances,” A voice said from the shadows in the corner of the room. “No bodies have been found yet.”

“They disappeared because they have been killed. I’ve had a few run-ins with a couple of the drug dealers in the past, their business was going better than ever, they wouldn’t simply disappear without at least keeping their most profitable clientele informed.” Levi’s tone was even and casual, almost bored. “The only way they would disappear from the streets would be if their lives where cut short. They were clearly killed. You know this.”

With that, Levi rose from the sofa and swiftly walked over to the small kitchen area and filled a kettle with water.

“It’s difficult to tell whether this guy, or I suppose, woman, is an expert or just some wannabe vigilante.”

“Five victims have disappeared in the last three weeks. And in the last three months a total of fifteen wanted criminals have disappeared. I wouldn’t quite call that the work of an amateur.” Levi gave the figure in the shadows a bored glance. “Seriously, come out from that corner, you look like you’re here to assassinate me. And unless that’s what you’re actually here to do, I prefer seeing your face when I’m giving you information. ”

“I was just leaning against the wall.” The figure said with a small inclination of amusement, and stepped into the light. “You think this really is some kind of vigilante?”

Pleased to be able to see the man, Levi turned back to the counter and pressed the kettle on. “Probably. Who knows. But only one of the criminals was of any importance, and only because he supplied a good number of junkies. The rest was just petty criminals. Would it make sense for a professional to go after small fry like that?”

“Unless their payment was pretty decent, it is doubtful.”

“Exactly. But you’re just using me to confirm your own theories now.” The corner’s of Levi’s mouth twitched upwards. “You already ruled out professional hitman, didn’t you? The evidence all point toward an amateur, or at least someone who is sufficient at killing but not necessarily experienced.”

As Levi put some black tea in the pot and poured the boiled water in, silence hung heavy in the room. Levi regarded the tea with a critical eye, and apparently satisfied, retrieved a cup from the cabinet overhead. “But one thing is for sure,” Levi poured tea into the white porcelain cup, filling it exactly to the brim. “Whoever this guy is, he is good at disposing bodies.”

Holding the cup in a peculiar grip, using all the fingers on his hand, Levi took a sip of the scolding hot tea, as though he was impervious to the heat. “He’ll strike again soon. And probably make a mistake, too.”

“What makes you say that?” The other man sounded rather surprised.

Levi took his time to swallow another mouthful of tea before he turned to the man with a blank stare. “With his track record he obviously doesn’t beat around the bush. His aim is quantity. And when someone kills so much, it’s only a matter of time before they slip up, as you know.” Levi blew out a puff of air that almost served as a snort. “He’s already earned himself a shitty nickname among the underground scum too. You know what they call him?”

The other man shook his head.

Levi took another quick sip before continuing, and his eyes seemed to flicker with some hidden emotion for a second before returning to the usual impassiveness. “The Hunter.”

* * *

 

Eren spotted the familiar head of blond hair appearing in the school’s doorway. He waved. “Armin!”

“Hi, Eren.” Armin smiled, swiftly waking over the small lawn to the road where Eren stood waiting, a small stack of books nearly tumbling from under his arms. “You know you don’t have to pick me up from school.”

“I’m not picking you up.” Eren took a couple of books from Armin’s arms. “Just...walking you home, or just walking home with you.”

“Eren, I appreciate your efforts, you know I do.” Armin made to grab his books back from Eren’s hands, only to almost lose the grip on the ones under his arm. “But it’s been months already. And it’s bright daylight. Nothing would happen. And I can carry all my books by myself.”

“I know that.” Eren looked into Armin’s sky blue eyes and smiled. “I just want to carry them today.”

They have had the conversation many times before; Eren knew Armin was fully aware of his stubbornness and would give in eventually, though he still kept reminding Eren he could take care of himself. Eren knew he was being somewhat overprotective, and he did wonder at times if walking home with Armin had more to do with reassuring himself Armin would come home than Armin’s actual safety.

Armin ceased his efforts to take his books back and sighed, as though letting Eren know that he could keep carrying the books, but Armin wasn’t entirely happy about it.

Eren grinned.

After a moment, Armin’s expression softened and he tentatively smiled back.  

Joy and relief surged through Eren’s chest at the sight, Armin always had a beautiful smile, it drew Eren in like beacon, it had lifted him up from dark places and lit something within him, an unknown power, a strength he hadn’t known he possessed. As long as Armin was in his life, Eren felt like he could conquer the world.

He put his free arm around Armin’s shoulders, feeling him relax into Eren’s hold. The comforting warmth from Armin’s body spread through Eren’s clothes and into his arm, and he relished in it. As long as Armin was warm, he was still alive, and Eren was not going to let anybody steal that from him. _I won’t let anyone take Armin, or Mikasa. I definitely won’t._

Eren didn’t let his hold on Armin drop until they stood in front of the shabby door to their shared flat, and he had to fish for the key in his jacket pocket.

Armin used the opportunity and finally took his books back.

Eren unlocked the door, and turned shoot Armin a crooked grin.

They entered the small flat in silence.

As soon as his shoes were off, Armin headed straight for the bathroom to shower as usual.

Eren headed for the kitchen, which was a small counter with a sink, an old dishwasher, four drawers, and a couple of cabinets overhead with rusty hinges which threatened to come off and drop the doors any moment. A small fridge reaching up to Eren’s stomach stood next to the counter. In fact, the flat was more like a small cabin--only one floor, with a joined living room and kitchen, a bathroom with the square inch of a broom closet, and a small dark bedroom.

To most people, such living conditions would be seen as poor, but to Eren, the little flat was a paradise. Sure, the place got so cold in winter they had to sleep huddled up in front the fireplace, and the shower only had about five minutes of hot water a day if they wanted to use the washer later, but Eren was proud to call this place his home. Not many children managed to live on their own after moving out from the horrible excuse of an orphanage.

Eren had just finished making a couple of jam sandwiches and was sitting on the ragged sofa when Armin appeared in a fresh set of clothes, drying his hair with a towel. 

Armin took a seat and let the towel rest on his shoulders.

Eren handed him one of the sandwiches.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder, they munched on their meal in comfortable silence.

Eren breathed in the sweet scent of Armin’s newly washed hair. He remembered going with Mikasa and picking out the more expensive shampoo, together with a fairly pricy soap, they had wanted Armin to look and smell clean and proper at school. Though when Armin had discovered he was apparently the only one using said products, he had insisted Eren and Mikasa use them as well, but they never did.

In the name of fairness Armin had tried to stop using the expensive soaps and shampoo only to receive a threat from Mikasa to start using them again or she would personally wash him herself. Eren had no doubt Mikasa would do good on her words.

It were little things, but Eren and Mikasa wanted to give Armin all the support they could, even if they were only able to get him better soap, a few clothes of decent quality, and even a few healthier meals.

Armin had protested at first when Eren and Mikasa had started spending money on him, and Mikasa had made that scary face promising dire consequences if he didn’t comply. Eren found it amusing in hindsight, but he knew Armin still felt guilty about being given so much by his friends.

As soon as he was finished eating, Armin started on his homework, and made Eren read several pages of his science textbook.

Eren didn’t mind, he knew it lessened Armin’s guilt a little if Eren and Mikasa could gain knowledge from his education, even if they would never receive any diploma.

After an hour, Eren rose from his seat and stretched. “I have to get back to work. Mikasa should be home soon. You don’t mind being by yourself for a bit, do you?”

Armin shook his head. He always did.

Eren didn’t like leaving him alone, but he was pretty sure no one would bother robbing a small hut like theirs, seeing as it likely wouldn’t be any riches to find. They would be right, unless you counted Armin, who to Eren was worth more than a hundred times his own weight in gold.

“Then I’ll get going.”  Eren grabbed his jacket from the small hook on the wall and flung it on. “See you later, Armin.”

“See you.”

Eren lingered for a moment with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Armin, who had engrossed himself in his books again. With a fond smile, Eren headed out, locking the door behind him.

It was a relatively short walk to his workplace, a small café at a corner of the town’s best shopping street. During the last year, Eren had gone through several odd jobs, but this one was the highest paying one, by far. Getting labour jobs were simple enough without any kind of diploma or qualifications, but to get a job in the respected area of town was something Eren was especially proud of.

He had persuaded and pleaded with the owner of the café to let him work there for a week for free, to prove how good a worker he would be. It was risky, going a week without pay, but if it meant getting a permanent job with, although low, but not terribly so, wages, was a gamble he was willing to bet on. After that week, the owner had been so satisfied with Eren’s hard work she had given him a regular position. Although she did warn him not to start slacking off just because he had proven himself. Eren never did. He couldn’t afford to. This was a job he could not risk getting fired from.

He entered the café through the back door, grabbed his apron from the small break room and went out into the dining area.

The owner greeted him with a smile from the counter. “Afternoon, Eren.”

Eren smiled warmly back at her. “Good afternoon, Miss Kirschtein.”

She waved in the direction of the supply cupboard. “You can start cleaning the empty tables. Then I need you on the counter.”

“Yes, I’ll get to right away.” Eren dashed for the staff room to get cleaning supplies.

Eren cleaned the tables with an air of professionalism, having done this so many times he hardly needed to think about what he was doing anymore. Whenever he didn’t man the counter, he usually cleaned the tables, the floors, the kitchen, the whole place. For the last couple of months, he had even been given baking duties as well. Owner Kirschtein had taught him how to bake bread and simple cakes, and Eren already knew how to make sandwiches thanks to the orphanage’s kitchen duties.

The task of preparing the goods to sell was something Eren treated as an honour and sign of great trust from Owner Kirschtein. After all, it was what brought the customers in and the business afloat. His pay had even been raised. Eren had been working the morning round that day, then a few hours break, which coincided perfectly with when Armin got out of school. He didn’t get a midday break every day, but when he did, he usually went to walk Armin home and grab some food. All in all, the job was more than he could have hoped for. Sure, it wasn’t his dream, but for as long as he needed, he would work there. Eren didn’t mind the hard work, if the job had any points he particularly disliked it would have had to be-

“Yo, mom, I’m home.” Owner Kirschtein’s son, Jean, a tall teenager, sixteen years old just like Eren, waltzed in through the front door.

The sight of Jean’s lazy and careless grin made Eren grit his teeth.

As usual, Jean went straight past Eren without acknowledging his presence, much to Eren’s preference, and headed straight to the counter, his hand already outstretched towards the baskets filled with sugary goodness on the counter.

Owner Kirschtein slapped her son’s hand away from a sugar coated bun. “Oh no. You have food upstairs. This is for the customers.”

Jean looked put out as he trudged to the break room.

Eren had to suppress a snicker.  He hoped Jean would stay upstairs for at least an hour before his mother called him to work.

The Kirschteins lived in a flat above the café, and owner Kirschtein made Jean work part time. Eren hadn’t been too pleased when he found out Jean was in Armin’s class at school, he would prefer Jean and Armin never even meet each other, though Armin had assured Eren Jean wasn’t a disrespectful student. Eren had snorted. He may not be a slacker at school, but working in the café was another story.

Sure enough, an hour later, Jean was grumbling his way through the dishes in the café kitchen while Eren was manning the counter.

Eren was glad he didn’t have to interact with Jean too much today. Jean tended to half-ass his way through work while Eren did his absolute best. It was clear from the first time they had to work together, that Jean didn’t care about his mother’s café in the slightest, at least not about working there.

Jean complained about how his mother made him work just because it was “the family business”, and how he would much rather hang out with friends doing things Eren could never afford the time to do.

Jean had mistaken Eren for another lazy kid, and tried to make Eren sympathize with his apparent ‘plight’. “This is a damn drag. I swear, when I graduate I’m going to Sina. That’s where the money is. And I don’t have to work in a dump like this anymore just for some lousy spare change.”

Eren had rounded on him. “Would you just Shut up! You don’t know shit about anything.”

Jean’s look of surprise had made him resemble a shocked and affronted mule.

Jean didn’t know how great his life was, the fact that he even had the luxury of complaining was proof enough that he had little reason to. Jean didn’t have to work to support himself, he could go after his dream, and he could afford to be lazy without starving to death, while Eren had no choice but to put in his best efforts into everything.

It was dark by the time Eren finished work. He only had one interaction with Jean while sweeping the floors after closing time. He almost bit through his lip holding himself back from hissing an insult at Jean, who had made a poor effort packing up leftovers. Owner Kirscthtein had been in the room, and Eren was not going to start a fight with Jean when it risked him falling out with his employer.

When Jean had retreated upstairs, it seemed his efforts had paid off. Owner Kirschtein handed Eren a bag with leftovers. “Take this home with you, Eren. These will be too old to sell tomorrow, but I’m sure they could last another day if you don’t eat them tonight.”

“T-thank you so much, miss!” Eren gave a quick bow of his with tears at the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten to take home goods from the bakery, but this wasn’t just any old bread, these were cupcakes.

When Eren made his way out the door, he couldn’t stop thinking about what Armin and Mikasa’s expressions would look like when he would present them with a box full of cupcakes. He was so happy he almost skipped, but managed to hold himself back, not wanting to jostle the cupcakes and look like a five year-old in the process. He couldn’t wait to get home, he wanted to get there as quickly as possible, but he had something else to do first. The thought made him slow his pace. He glanced up at the town’s clock tower, the large face illuminated yellowish. Almost 9 o clock.

One hour.

Eren tucked the bag containing the box of cupcakes more securely under his arm and made his way down the familiar streets. He took his usual turns, strolling at a moderate pace but still quick enough to match the people around him. As he walked, the streets became emptier and emptier as he neared the outskirts of town, where cobbles ended and gravel and dirt roads began. At last he reached the end of the lit streets, and in front of him laid complete darkness.

His own footsteps sounded too loud in his ears as he walked into the dark, carefully counting his steps in his mind. When the street lights were completely out of sight, Eren strayed from the small road and swiftly made his way in between the trees. His eyes would need another few minutes to get completely adjusted to the darkness, but with the moonlight, he could see well enough to know where he was going.

The moss, roots, and grass underneath his feet were familiar to him. His heartbeat was even, there was little to fear in this forest at night, at least for Eren. People couldn’t see well so there would be no one around, and if there was, they would certainly carry torches and the light would give them away. Eren would not be spotted. Even he was, the knife tucked in his pocket was a comforting weight. He had walked in this forest many times in daylight, and easily followed his mental map of it.

Eren heard the tell-tale sounds of a small creek and turned left to walk behind a cluster of large rocks covered in moss. He felt his way along the cold stone and velvety soft surface until he found the crack between the rocks. The crack was just wide enough to stick his arm through. He only needed to rummage for a second before his hand found hold on his goal. He pulled a couple of dark rucksacks, and a larger bag out from where the items had been stuffed. He brushed some leaves and dirt from the sacks before he undid the clasps.

He had chosen rucksacks without zippers specifically because it made very little noise when opening and closing, despite the fact that no one would be around to hear it. With only the gentle sounds of water flowing in the creek, Eren stripped off his clothes, one layer at a time, putting each garment in the empty sack as he progressed.

When he was down to his underwear and standing barefoot on the ground, he reached for the second rucksack and started pulling out another set of clothes and putting them on quickly, including a completely different pair of shoes. He only owned two, and this pair was never to enter his home.

When he was done changing, he was wearing a completely different outfit, all black, and a dark green coat, with the large empty bag strapped to his back underneath.  He remembered the cupcakes, and tucked the plastic bag securely around the cardboard box to prevent insects from getting inside. The box wouldn’t fit between the rocks, and not wanting to risk crushing the cupcakes, he decided to leave it under some branches; nobody would find it anyway. When he had put the rucksacks back between the rocks, Eren pulled up the hood on the coat and started on his way.

His route out of the forest was in the opposite direction of the one he had entered, and it took a little longer before he reached buildings again. This part of town had darker streets, some of the lights weren’t working, and hadn’t for some time. Not many people lived in this part of town. This was the sanctuary for the lowest in society, the shady people with a hefty criminal record. Eren had noticed in the last few weeks fewer and fewer seemed to hang out in these parts.

On one of walks through the place in daylight, when it was deemed a lot safer, Eren had heard a few cluster of junkies whisper about finding other places to use for their nightly activities because this was the most likely place to be caught by The Hunter. Eren didn’t know who this hunter was, but he would find out later, if whoever it was caused potential targets moving locations.

This night, though Eren knew his target would be close to this part of town.  He had taken nightly walks past the nearest nightclub before, seeing the man creep about in the alleys every time. Chances were high he would be here again tonight. Eren didn’t stalk targets that much, mostly because Armin and Mikasa didn’t like Eren being out at night, but he had seen this man hang around one of his previous targets, had overheard him brag about what he had done to some poor girl.

After seeing the way the man leered and stalked around the young women and men coming and going from the nightclub, it was only a matter of time before something happened again, and when it did, Eren would be there. There was no guarantee it would be tonight, but then Eren would simply be back tomorrow night, unless something else came up.

The muted thumps of music reached Eren’s ears. He turned a corner and the nightclub came within sight. Eren ducked into a nearby alley casually and leaned against a wall. From the pocket of his trousers, he withdrew a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He kept them in his gloved hands while he watched the nightclub.

Young people kept coming in, and a few were already stumbling back outside and down the streets, away from the shady part of town. That place didn’t bode well for drunken teenagers. The legal drinking age was sixteen, and the majority of the club’s guests were under twenty, most of them were probably there without their parents’ consent, at least Eren couldn’t imagine most parents letting their kids go clubbing so close to Trost’s famous drug district.

Sure enough, there was his target, sneaking around in another nearby alley.

Eren couldn’t see him when he went too far behind the buildings, but the man had to stay in Eren’s view if he wanted to sneak peeks at the nightclub.

Eren wasn’t sure how long he had been watching the man. More than once did he remember he had a box of cupcakes waiting back in the forest, and he found himself longing to share them with Armin and Mikasa.

A group of three young men approached the alley Eren was standing in.

Eren took a cigarette out of the pack, lit it, and pretended to smoke,

The men went past without sparing him a second glance.

Eren had learned pretty quickly smokers were usually left alone for some reason, so he had decided to use this to his advantage. He let the cigarette burn out a little more while he watched his target before putting it out. Then raised voices drew his attention.

An argument had broken out among a cluster of teenagers outside the club.

Eren watched a boy yelling at smaller girl, who didn’t even seem to bother arguing back.

Eventually she turned away from the boy and his friends, and began to walk off. She  was approaching the target’s alley now.

Eren’s gut feeling immediately told him something was wrong.

The girl was short, with shoulder-length blonde hair, reminding Eren somewhat of Armin’s, and the thought sent shivers down his spine.

She was walking steadily, so she likely wasn’t drunk, although with her petite size she would be an ideal victim for his target.

Eren knew what was going to happen before it did.

The girl paused and looked into the alley with a concerned look. She hesitated for a moment, but then slowly walked into the shadows.

Eren didn’t hear a scream, but he knew his target had made his move. He darted into the streets, and when he reached the other alley; he saw nothing less of what he had expected.

His target had the girl in a tight hold, using a rag to muffle her screams. The girl was kicking but the man had her lifted off the ground and her efforts were rendered futile.

Even in the shadows, Eren saw tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.

A fiery heat spread in Eren’s chest, and the urge to charge was overwhelming, the knife in his pocket calling to him. No, he couldn’t draw it. Not yet. “Oi!” Eren yelled. “What the hell are you doing?”

The man looked up at Eren sharply, and gave a small gasp of surprise.

Before the man had the chance to do anything more, Eren shouted again. “Rape! Quick! Someone is getting raped over here!”

Eren wasn’t sure if there was anyone around sober enough to register what he had said, but it didn’t matter.

The man quickly let go of the girl made a run for it.  He dashed past Eren and into the streets. 

Eren watched him run for less than half a minute before he started jogging after him. He didn’t like leaving the girl alone, but hopefully she would get on her feet or someone who had heard his shout would come help her. Eren had a job to do.

The man slowed down when he reached the next street, but didn’t stop running.

Eren darted between a couple of buildings and ran down a narrow side street. _Turn left, one door, two doors, keep calm, then right. Calm. Up a small staircase, calm, left..._ Eren paused and looked out into the main street.

Sure enough, there was his target, jogging sloppily now, towards where Eren stood hidden in the shadows.

He could let the fire in his cut engulf him at last. It felt wonderful to let it out, he didn’t know how much longer he could have held it in. His fingers curled around the handle of his knife, and it was like a hidden part of him roared in jubilation at finally being let out to play.

The target was approaching.

Eren undid the buttons on his jacket. _Closer...closer..._ His arms were burning with energy, his legs slightly bent...He let his jacket drop to the ground... _Come on, closer..._

The man was right in front of him now--dark eyes, sweaty brow, mouth open in a ragged breath

Eren leaped. In a swift move, Eren wrapped one arm around the man’s neck, pulled him into the shadows and kicked his legs from under him while pushing down with his other arm on the man's back.

His target hit the ground with chocked breath and a hard thud.

Eren didn’t give him time to turn around before he kicked him in the head.

The man’s breath was knocked out of him in the fall so he couldn’t scream.

Eren quickly kicked the target onto his back and loomed over him. He held up his knife.

An expression of pure fear started forming on the man’s face.

Eren grinned savagely. _You know how it feels, now, don’t you?_ That was all Eren was going to give him. Before the man had any chance to move, Eren plunged the knife into the exposed throat.

The man tried to scream but only gurgling, chocking sounds came out.

“You think it’s fun to torture innocents?” Eren whispered, though he wanted to shout it in the man’s face. He pulled out the knife and raised it, not even sparing a second glance at the dark liquid gushing from the man’s throat. “You think it’s fun to rape young girls and boys? You’re nothing but trash!” Eren growled, brought the knife into the man’s stomach and twisted it. “You’re not worthy to live. Scum like you should just disappear.”

Eren pulled the knife back out again, dark crimson droplets flying and staining Eren’s already dark shirt. He raised the knife one last time, and with a burst of extra strength and a roaring, gut deep sense of satisfaction, he stabbed into his target’s heart.

The gurgling sounds subsided, and the man’s chest stilled.

The fire in Eren’s gut dimmed a little. That part of him apparently satisfied with its playtime. Another piece of trash gone from the world. Eren couldn’t let it retreat back to sleep quite yet though, the work was only half finished. Thoughts of Armin and Mikasa, and the waiting cupcakes were sneaking their way into his mind. Soon. He would go home soon.

He let out a long breath, hid his knife back in his pocket, grabbed one of the man’s limp legs and held it up. He placed his foot on the knee and readied himself, gathering up his strength, and used his whole weight to stomp down. There was a muffled crunching sound, and he wondered if some of the bone had pierced the skin. He held up the leg again, bending it backwards, and felt the limb giving little resistance to the awkward angle.

He repeated the process with the other leg and moved on to the arms. Holding them up and stomping down on the back of the elbow. The arms didn’t usually obstruct much, but he did them anyway. As he kicked in the ribs, he wondered if he had to do the shoulders too, the man was quite tall.

Eren brought the bag down from his back, opened it up and laid it out beside the target, displaying the inside completely covered in some kind of plastic like material. He used his legs to roll the target into the bag. He did his best to tuck the body into it, bending the legs and arms, finding out he didn’t have to pull the shoulders out off the sockets this time--apparently the work on the ribs had made it easier to bend. He must have managed to hit the spine somehow as well. It was still a snug fit, but he managed to close the bag.

Eren put his coat back on before he heaved the bag onto his back. It was no less heavy then he was used to, and he didn’t look forward to the walk out of town, but it had to be done. He had no choice but to muster up the strength. Idly he noticed a few pools of liquid on the cobbles. He probably shouldn’t have gone for the throat, as it left the most mess. Well, it wasn’t the first time he had left a little bit behind anyway. Not wanting to linger any longer, Eren started down the narrow alleyway.

He kept to the small, unlit side streets and alleys as much as he could. He only had to walk a little bit down a wider street before he could duck down a small alley again.

He only passed one person on his way, a staggering middle-aged man who probably didn’t even see him, and wouldn’t remember much in the morning.

Eren was grateful people usually didn’t go out at night in Trost, with the exceptions of pubs and nightclubs, which closed at midnight anyway.

He didn’t have a view of the clock tower on his route, but from experience, Eren guessed it was probably already past midnight by the time he reached the dirt roads and wandered into the forest. The moonlight had a certain look to it which it did between twelve and one in the morning.

Armin and Mikasa were most likely asleep by now. He could present them with the cupcakes at breakfast.  A homely feeling spread in Eren’s chest, that warm, comforting spark of affection, and it spurred him on to walk faster. He wanted to get back to his friends as soon as possible.

After a few more minutes, Eren finally reached his destination, a riverbank. He let the bag fall from his back and removed his coat again and hung it on a tree branch. His legs and shoulder muscles felt a little numb after carrying so much weight, but he couldn’t give himself time to rest just yet.  Reaching underneath a bush next to him, Eren pulled out the axe hiding between the branches. He put the axe on the ground by his feet so he could use both his hands to open the bag. The body hardly made any sound as Eren dumped it on the rocks close to the water’s edge.

Although visibility was fairly limited, Eren let his previous experience guide his actions. The first few times he had removed clothing in the darkness had been awkward, he had pulled and ripped, and learned that it was better to just use his knife to cut the clothes off. He worked quickly, cutting up the seams and pulling the fabric pieces off and putting them in a heap.

Once the body lay bare, Eren didn’t even spare it a glance before he retrieved the axe and set to work. This river was perfect, the water flowed away from the town and into the wilderness, washing away the spill, and Eren knew the water level would rise in a few days and wash the rocks clean as well.  He had considered just dumping the entire thing in the water but he didn’t want to risk it getting washed up on the bank and being found somehow. No, this was more effective, and the rage inside him felt more satisfied.

Eren had developed a good working pace, having cut lots of firewood before he even started doing this sort of thing had made him comfortable and familiar with using the axe, and it didn’t take long before he was done. He rinsed the axe in the river before he put it back under the bush, trading it for a spade he also kept hidden there.

Putting the pieces back into the bag was easy and quick, and he stuffed in the remnants of the clothes in a smaller compartment in the bag before he put his coat back on. The bag, though still quite heavy, felt much lighter this time. He picked up the spade, holding it under his coat with one hand, while the other held onto the bag’s strap across his chest, and left the bank. He was almost done for night. Just a little bit more...

His gait was brisk and quick, sometimes a little too sloppy and almost tripping over a few roots. Eren knew his route well though, and reached his next stop in only a few minutes.  His breathing was a little harsh. He climbed over the stones serving as a fence, and he allowed himself a couple of extra seconds to draw more air into his lungs before he started his way between the empty enclosures.

Thankfully, the pig’s pen was close to the barn and not the main farm house, and Eren wouldn’t be spotted unless someone walked past him, something unlikely in the middle of the night.

The pigs’ large heads perked up, but they didn’t make any loud noises.

Eren put the bag down, opened it up and rummaged for a while, feeling for the pieces with the least bones. The farmers fed the pig all kinds of weird stuff--Eren had seen bones in their tray before, leaving a few wasn't a big issue as long as they weren't too big.

As he found the slices he was looking for, he threw them into the pig’s tray.

The animals quickly scooted forward and started wolfing up the meal.

When the only pieces left were too big for Eren to risk throwing in, he closed up the bag and once again went on his way. Only two more stops now...

His next destination was just a minute away from the farm. Eren stepped over another small stone fence and made his way swiftly among the gravestones. There it was, just like he had seen that morning, the mound of dirt from a newly dug grave, fresh from a funeral. A few months prior, Eren had been severely conflicted about defiling the resting place of someone else, but it had been put to light that instead of disrespecting the deceased, they would instead, in death, be assisting Eren in disposing of the trash.

He moved a few flower bouquets out of the way with a careful hand. Still feeling a little guilty, he thrust the spade into the earth and dug up a small part of the grave. It had to be done. He couldn't risk burning today, so this would have to do.

Eren emptied the rest of the bag’s contents into the hole, including the pieces of clothing, and put the dirt back on top, flattening it with the spade. He gently put the flowers back on the mound, giving a mental apology, and quickly left the graveyard.

On his way back to his hidden clothes, Eren’s thoughts were of Armin and Mikasa, the cupcakes, and the next day. After Eren had changed back into his usual clothes and hidden away the stained ones in a rucksack between the rocks, he had been very happy to find the cupcakes were still looking good.

He took the forest route back to the flat on the outskirts of town. Eren was grateful the flat’s location at times like this. The night had started to lighten somewhat, and by the time Eren reached his home, he guessed it was about two in the morning. He had been pretty fast tonight.

He entered and removed his shoes, trying to keep from making noise. He took the box of cupcakes out of the plastic bag and put it on the kitchen counter, and then he put the bag in the cabinet underneath the sink before he went to the bathroom to change into his night shirt and brush his teeth. In the mirror he spotted a few red stains on his cheeks, and washed them off. Good thing he had kept his hood up on the way home too, and hadn't run into anyone.

Now that he was home, he felt the full extent of his tiredness, the aching back, the stiff calves, and knotty shoulders. Despite the fatigue, Eren felt satisfied. The day had been fairly smooth. Work had been alright, the job had been without much trouble, and he had a surprise for his friends in the morning.

He let out a big yawn as he exited the bathroom and headed for the bedroom. When he opened the door, soft sounds of sleepy breathing greeted him. He could barely make out the two lumps on the joined mattresses on the floor, but Eren knew who slept where. It was with a deep feeling of contentment that Eren padded over to his mattress in the middle, laid down under the covers and turned over on his side to face Armin’s sleeping form. Gently, Eren reached out and put one arm around Armin’s shoulders and scooted himself a little closer. Armin had the covers drawn up all the way over his mouth, and he made a small muffled sound when he leaned into Eren’s embrace.

Eren’s chest surged with warmth, and he drew Armin in even closer. Armin’s long, steady breaths were warm on his face, and when he felt Mikasa’s hand tangle in the back of his shirt, Eren wished he could pause time and live in this moment forever. He let the gentle sounds of his sleeping friends lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Eren awoke to his shoulders being lightly shaken and a voice saying his name. His eyes ached as he opened them, and his vision was slightly blurry as he looked up at Armin’s face. “Armin.” Eren’s mouth felt like sandpaper, and his voice sounded rough to his own ears. “What time is it?

“Seven thirty,” Armin answered. “Sorry, I know you like to be up by seven, but...we thought you should get a little extra sleep since you came back so late.”

“Ah, thank you.” Eren tried to coax some saliva into his dry mouth. Memories of last night’s events flooded his mind, and he shot up out of bed. “Oh that’s’s right! I got some stuff back from the café!” He grinned at Armin, his fatigue completely forgotten. “Did you see the box in the kitchen yet?”

“We saw it, yeah. But we didn’t open it since we figured you brought it back.”

“Let’s go open it, then!” Eren stooped down and grabbed Armin by the hand “Come on! You’re going to love this!” He pulled Armin to his feet and out of the bedroom in an excited haze.

“Eren.” Mikasa turned to the pair of them as they entered the living room.

Eren grinned at her. “I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet, Mikasa, because I got something for us.” He let go of Armin’s hand, hopped over to the counter, grabbed the box and put it on the small table in the middle of the room.

Armin and Mikasa gathered around him with curious expression.

 Eren excitedly opened the cardboard box to reveal seven honey coloured cupcakes, looking freshly baked despite being a day old.

Armin’s shining eyes widened. “Woah, Owner Kirschtein really let you have this? You’ve never gotten to take any cakes back before.”

“She sure did.” Eren beamed. “I think she must have been impressed with that one chocolate cake I made a few days ago. It sold really well.”

“This is great, Eren.” Mikasa gave her usual small, but loving, smile.

“Well come on then. There’s no use just looking at them.” Eren gestured to the cupcakes. “Let’s have breakfast.”

“I’ll get us some water.” Armin hopped to the fridge.

“I’ll get the plates.” Mikasa turned and opened a cabinet carefully.

The three of them enjoyed their unusual breakfast together, the room filled with the sounds of small talk and chewing.

All too soon, Armin had to leave for school, which started at eight thirty. He had been the only one of them fully dressed the whole time. He stood and went to retrieve his coat from the hook by the door.

Eren wanted to walk him to school as usual. He rose and started to follow Armin.

“Eren, you’re not dressed.” Mikasa gave him a pointed look. “You want to go outside in your underwear and a t-shirt?”

Eren felt his cheeks heat up. “I can get dressed quickly--”

Armin quickly waved Eren’s offer off. “It’s okay, Eren. I’ll see you later. Bye you two.” He was out the door before Eren could say another word.

Without Armin, Eren noticed an abrupt change in the room’s atmosphere. He looked at Mikasa.

She had started putting the plates and cups into the dishwasher with her back to him.

The silence was ringing with the build-up of a suspicious kind of tension, and Eren knew what was coming. He had hoped Mikasa wouldn’t be like this today. It wasn’t like Eren was out at night that often.

“Did you have walk again yesterday?” Her tone was casual, not even a hint of the tension drenching the room.

Although her back was still turned, Eren looked away from her, as though she had eyes on the back of her head. “Yeah.” Eren did his best to keep his voice even. “I got off pretty late, Jean was working the evening, and I felt I needed to clear my head.”

“I see,” Mikasa responded. “Can you come back before midnight next time?” She faced him, seeking eye contact.

Eren met her dark grey eyes head on. “Yeah. I’ll try and do that next time. “ He rose from his chair. “Sorry. I must have lost track of time. I didn’t realise it had gotten so late until I got back. Jean really worked me up.”

Mikasa only nodded.

 Eren walked past her and into the bathroom. It had been a while since Mikasa had last asked Eren what made him come home so late after a job. Eren had a few late nights out even before he started taking out targets, so he didn’t get why Mikasa still bothered to question him.

A voice in his mind told him it was just because she worried for him. Eren knew she did, just like they both worried for Armin, but Eren could take care of himself. He had been out plenty of times already and come back without as much as a scratch, so surely he had proved she had little to worry about by now. He had even assured her he carried his knife at all times, just like she did.

The first few times Eren had come back late, Mikasa had made to check his breath for the smell of alcohol, and looked into his eyes to see if he had taken any drugs, and when she was forced to conclude Eren was completely sober and clean, she had questioned him relentlessly for half an hour, and spent another hour just observing him without talking to him at all.

Even the next few times Eren had came home after ten, she had persisted to examine him for drugs and alcohol.

Eren thought it was pretty pointless considering he wouldn’t even have had the money to waste buying himself a cheap drink.

Eren turned on the water and splashed some on his face. He could understand Mikasa’s concerns, he really could, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make his head ache and his temper flare up. Sometimes he wondered how Mikasa would like it if he kept questioning her about her whereabouts when she came home later than usual, except of course, Mikasa was always on time, and strong.

Eren didn’t like to admit it, but he didn’t hold a candle to Mikasa. She was both stronger physically and could use a knife to defend herself more efficiently than Eren. There was little point questioning her. Eren had even seen her throw a fully grown man into a wall. The last person Eren needed to worry about was Mikasa. It was usually the two of them worrying about and looking out for Armin, whose strengths lay in his intelligence.

Eren wanted to take his time brushing his teeth, but Mikasa’s work started before his did, so she would need the bathroom soon. Mikasa usually went before Eren did, but he had momentarily forgotten this routine in his haste to get away before he lost his temper with her. Feeling sufficiently calmer but still a bit on edge, Eren finished up and headed back out, hoping Mikasa would prioritize getting ready to leave instead of picking up where they left off.

Without a word, Eren went into the bedroom and over to the small dresser to pull out the only other shirt and trousers he owned. As he dressed, Eren heard Mikasa close the bathroom door after herself. 

Eren debated heading out before she did, the café opened at ten today, so he could spend the time wandering around town. Would Mikasa get suspicious if he left before her? Would it seem like he was avoiding her, running away? Eren didn’t want her to think he was too cowardly to confront her; he just wanted to get out and cool down completely before work.

His decision made, Eren briskly walked out of the bedroom and grabbed his jacket. “I’m leaving early today,” he called to the bathroom door, keeping his voice as casual as he could. “See you later.”

* * *

 

Levi was dressed in a smart black suit, hardly expensive but looks deceived, and that was exactly the plan. He scanned the busy platform with an emotionless stare.

All around him people were going about their business, some running to catching their trains.

He had been standing there for a good half hour already, and his patience was wearing thin. The train had started boarding a minute ago too.

A young, short woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair, dressed in a suit, came trotting towards him, carrying a suitcase.

Behind her, three men appeared from the crowd, also dressed smartly in different coloured suits and brandishing suitcases of their own.

The woman reached Levi’s side first. “So--so sorry we’re a little late.”

Levi gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “What happened?”

An aplogetic expression formed on her face. “Well..ah...Auruo--”

“Hey! It wasn’t my fault!” One of the men burst out, stepping forward. “The attendant dropped my suitcase and--”

“Okay. Calm down.” A man with his blond hair in a ponytail spoke with a friendly tone.

“Yes. It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” The third man tipped his hat a little forward, concealing his short cropped dark hair, and smiled.

“Yes it does. If the taxi company can’t even hire-”

Levi gave a small tut despite himself. “Calm down, all of you. We need to be more low key. We can talk in the compartment.”

Although his voice had been low, the three men and the woman immediately quieted and focused on Levi.

“Yes, captain.” They all managed to say in unison.

“Have you already forgotten we’re in public? Lay off that word for the time being. Now--” Levi started towards the train. ”--we go to Trost.”

“Yes, sir!”


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

The largest pedestrian street in Trost was a sea of people dressed in coats, scarves and hats.

 Eren took a long, slow breath, and the crisp air made his lungs burn. He tried his best to tune out the chatter drumming on his ears and avoid bumping into anyone. His skin crawled every time his sleeves and shoulders were brushed by a passerby, and he subtly patted his zipped-up pockets, reassured every time he felt the lump of his key and a few coins. The sinking horror of discovering a day’s wages gone, taken from him right under his nose a year ago, had never quite left Eren’s nerves.

 The tall, white, wooden and brick buildings, and crowds made Eren’s insides twist with something akin to mild claustrophobia. Why had he even decided to go the center of town today? The intermingled voices made his head ache, and the short range visibility, coupled with his constant urge to reach into his pocket and hold onto his key, had Eren feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare.

 At least he had long since passed the only road which permitted motorized vehicles and didn’t have to endure the rumble of car engines. He couldn’t wait to get into a quieter street.  He regretted not going to the forest instead, but for some reason, and Eren wasn’t sure what it was, he always felt uneasy about going back into the forest the day after a job. As though it was too soon, and the daylight would expose him. He needed the safety of darkness, he needed cover.

 Keeping his head down, Eren quickened his pace, weaving his way the best he could among the pedestrians, eager to get to work where he only had to deal with a few people at a time. The thought of a ten hour work day ahead of him, after a tense walk, weighed heavy in his gut, but Eren would get through it. He thought about Armin, and Mikasa in a good mood, and his feet seemed a little lighter.

 Finally nearing the end of the main street, on a whim, Eren looked up at the clock tower. He had another half hour before the café opened. At the end of the street he could choose between three different directions to turn, and it didn’t really matter which way he took, he could find his way to the café from anywhere in town. He knew Trost almost as well as the back of his hand, a fact he was both proud of and resented. Forging a mental map of the large town hadn’t been exactly voluntary nor under pleasant circumstances. The knowledge did come in useful on his jobs, though.  Now, the only unknown part to him was the richest district, where only business people lived, which he had so far walked around and yet to actually venture into.

 Eren paused as the street split. He didn’t know why, but it was as though an unknown force pulled on his senses, telling him to take the road to the left. If he walked far enough down that street and turned left again to follow an even smaller path, he would end up very close to the alley he had disposed of last night’s target in. It wasn’t like Eren usually wanted to return to the scene of the action the day after. Why did he want to today?

 With slower steps, Eren started down the street.

Was it really a good idea to trust this feeling? In the past, whenever he had followed his senses, he had been spared quite a lot of trouble, which was how he had learned to let his gut guide him whenever he could. It had been a flash of intuition that had led him to find Mikasa all those years ago, saving her life, and more recently, Armin as well.

 This time, though, should he doubt this feeling? Was it really leading him where he suspected?

It was perhaps pure curiosity, the burning urge to find the truth, which compelled Eren to make the left turn and keep walking down the small street until his suspicions were confirmed. He halted at the end of a narrow alley, much like the one he had been waiting for his target in last night.

 He looked out onto the larger street, hyper-aware of any prying eyes.

A few people walked by further away, but nobody else seemed to be around.

With a small nervous tingle in his stomach, he turned to look at the alley from last night. His stomach jumped.

Two men were standing there, right at the entrance. The one wearing a black hat was seemingly casually looking out into the street with his back turned to the alley.  The second man, who appeared considerably shorter, was facing the alley itself, as though surveying it.

Eren's stomach was doing tiny summersaults, and he carefully took a step back, hiding himself more from view. The Police? No, that couldn’t be? The police always wore uniforms. These men were dressed normally in coats, like any civilians out for a stroll.  _Calm down. There’s no way they’re police. They’re probably just normal people who wandered by. Yes, that’s right. There was some blood left there yesterday. They probably saw something from the street and are checking it out. Yes, they’re just a couple of normal people who happened to spot the stains. There’s no way they could know what happened there._ _But..._

 What if they went to the police? Eren had left a few messes in the past and the police had so far seemed happily unaware, or perhaps tried to investigate but given up due to a lack of solid leads. Even if these men were to report to the police, he was sure nothing in that alley would lead back to him, or to what happened last night.

 They have nothing. That blood could have been from a fight for all they know. It’s close to the druggie district, it wouldn’t be that unusual. Right? Right.

 The shorter man slowly walked into the alley and out of sight.

 Eren leaned forward as far as he dared, straining to see. Were they talking? He couldn’t hear anything from his distance, but he dared not venture closer and risk being seen.  A part of him was screaming to get away before he was spotted, while another part wanted to stay and find out what the men would do. How much time did he have left before work?

 He couldn't see the clock tower from here, and didn’t carry a watch on him. As much as he wished to stay and leave at the same time, he definitely couldn’t be late for work. He had to go, now.

 Not risking running before he was well away from the alley, Eren briskly walked back the way he had come, his mind racing with questions.

* * *

Levi picket up the receiver and, without looking at the buttons, dialled a number quickly, fingers moving with an automatic air of familiarity. Levi listened to three consecutive beeps before a male voice greeted him from the other end.

“Good Morning.”

Levi scoffed. “Hardly. The earliest damn train? Really? You can be glad they serve tea on trains these days.”

 “You said you wanted to get to Trost as quickly as possible.” The male voice held a tint of amusement. “I take it you’re there now?”

 “We’re here, yes.”

 “Good. How was the journey?”

 “Noisy and boring, as expected.”

 “You’re at the safe house?”

 “Yes.”

 “Ah, so how is it?”

 Levi’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped an octave lower. “Filthy.”

 “Sorry to hear that.” The man at the other sounded unapologetic. “Though I suppose it was only to be expected. I hope you can put off cleaning urges for a little while longer. There’s something I need you to do right away. We have a lead.”

“Listening.”

“After you left this morning, Nanaba called. She said one of her associates found some suspicious blood stains in an alley. She couldn’t get to the scene because of work. I’d like you to check it out.”

“It could be our guy, yes. But we have to see the scene first to form any conclusion. Did she mention the police?”

 “No. I don’t think the police have been informed. The alley is apparently a small side street close to the rougher part of town. There likely wouldn’t be any civilians stumbling upon it and alerting the police. But if it happens, Nanaba will inform me about it.”

 “Let’s hope for that. If those nosy rats took an interest here...Close to the rough part of town, huh? We’ll find it.” Levi hung up and left the small barren office. When he walked into the living, he immediately addressed the four people waiting for him there. “We have a lead. Erd, Auruo, Petra, go take a look around town. Map out the layout. Go to the outskirts too.”

 “Yes, sir,” the three chorused.

 “Gunter. With me.” Levi started in the direction of the door. “We’re going to check out this new lead.”

 Gunter trotted up behind Levi. “Yes, sir.”

 The five of them put on coats quickly and left their temporary base. The place was a two storey house, painted white like most buildings in Trost. The top and bottom floors were different flats, both rented out to Levi and the team. Impeccably domestic and definitely not Levi’s accustomed scene, but at least it was quiet.

 Levi motioned with his hand for the others to gather around him. “We meet back here in two hours. Spread out so you can cover a wider area.”

The other four nodded and parted ways.

The man walking by Levi’s side, Gunter Shulz, was the only one of the five who had previously been to Trost.

Levi explained to him the information he had been given over the phone.

Although it had been years since Gunter last set foot in Trost, he seemed to recall where the rougher part of town was, and lead the way.

 It took them close to thirty minutes to navigate their way through the town and another few before they found the correct alley.

 Levi surveyed the dried, dark red stains on the cobbles with narrowed eyes. A couple of silent minutes passed before Levi took a few smooth, feathery light steps into the narrow alleyway.

 “Sir?” Gunter turned from his position as lookout to cast a glance at Levi.

 “Definitely stabbed to death, ” Levi kept his head down, scanning the cobbles.“ Oh and what have we here...” He crouched down by a splatter of stains, and pointed at what appeared to be one third of a red footprint. “Seems like someone stepped in a little blood. Gross. Couldn’t be the stabbed victim--would have been more footprints. No, this was the killer.”

 “You’re really sure someone was killed here last night, sir?” Gunter looked impressed.

 Levi’s gloved hand hovered over the stains just a short of touching them. “Without a doubt.”

 “No disrespect, sir,” Gunter said, “but how do you figure? I mean--all we have are some dried blood stains. I mean I know it can tell us a lot, but we can tell someone was definitely killed last night from that alone?”

 Levi stood back up, faced Gunter and pointed at the blood. “These are the only blood stains. If someone was stabbed and survived they would either have tried to leave the scene, or were carried away by someone else. In either of those scenarios the wounded would have left a nice blood trail for us to follow. But there isn’t a clear trail here. If the person was alive and carried off, at least some drops of blood would have been left behind them. The person died on this spot and was moved somehow without leaving more stains...At least, that’s what the killer thought.”

 Gunter’s nut-brown eyes widened. “So there is a trail?”

 “Yes and no. The killer made a mistake.” Levi looked down the darker part of the alley. “He accidentally stepped in the blood with what looks like the tip of his shoe. Which should mean...” Levi’s eyes scanned the ground, and he walked further into the alley. “There is a small trail of blood here. Not smudged, so it confirms the body wasn’t dragged. It was carried.”

 "So we need to find out where it was carried to?” Gunter righted his hat.

 “Exactly.” Levi looked back at Gunter. “The trail stops here so no use trying to follow it. But it does tell us something.”  Levi turned back around and started down the alley again. “The killer probably knows this town very well and makes good use of these hidden streets. We follow this cramped-ass alley and see where it leads. Follow me and don’t step in the blood.”

 “Yes, sir.” Gunter carefully sidestepped the blood stains and started trotting after Levi.

* * *

Eren’s thoughts were running in circles. Who where those men by the alley? What were they doing there? The questions repeated themselves like a broken record, and Eren couldn’t fathom a plausible answer, least not one which worked in his favour.

 He got to work almost five minutes too late for the first time, and apologized profusely to Owner Kirscthein, who waved him off saying at least tardiness proved he was human.

 Eren fought his runaway thoughts from distracting him as he made apple pies. He could not recall feeling so tense when putting in ingredients since his first try at baking. Owner Kirschtein had been instructing him thoroughly back then, but even so, Eren had been constantly worrying about putting in too much or too little of everything. A part of his mind had constantly piped up to tell him he didn’t know how to bake and so he should just give up.

Eren had almost growled out loud when he had mentally shouted back. He was going to master this. He might not have known how to do it before, but he was damn well going to learn it now. He was going to bake like his life depended on it, which in a way, to Eren, wasn’t too far from the truth. He had doubted Kirschtein would fire him if he couldn’t learn how to bake it, knowing it was a silly assumption, but he hadn't been completely sure.  

 He had no choice. He had to master backing. In only a few weeks, Eren had most of the recipes stuck to memory, and with positive customer feedback, he had grown pretty confident in his newly learned skills. Just a year ago, Eren would have never even imagined he would one day be good at cooking any type of food, especially not cakes. He had never even thought he would ever afford to eat cake, yet alone bake one.

 It took a couple of hours before Eren managed to lose himself to his work, but whenever he had a break to eat a sandwich he was allowed from the café kicthen, his thoughts kept wandering back to earlier this morning.  As much as Eren was sure no one could trace any leads back to him, he still found himself contemplating what would happen if it did. If the police came to arrest him, what would happen to Armin and Mikasa?

 Although they hadn’t personally taken part in any of Eren’s jobs, nor knew anything about them, it wasn’t like their record was entirely clean either. Eren was pretty sure nobody would be able to find out what happened the day Eren had first met Mikasa. Eren’s father had made sure the kidnapper’s bodies had vanished, so she should be pretty safe. Armin hadn’t even hurt a fly as far as Eren knew - but the incident a few months ago...

 No, Eren would take sole responsibility for that if it ever came to light. Nobody would have to know Armin’s involvement.

 After the thought of Armin and Mikasa being dragged into some kind of police investigation, Eren couldn’t distract himself again no matter how much he tried. It was fortunate his baking duties were over for the day because he was sure he would have messed up the cakes at this rate. Talking to customers proved a bit troublesome as well as he needed to ask several to repeat their order because he had been too immersed in thoughts.

By the time his workday was over, Eren was nursing a headache from contemplating so many scenarios, and still the only thing he knew for sure was if he ever did end up wanted by the police, he would have no clue what to actually do.

The sun had set and the last light of the dying day painted the clouds an orange tinged pink across a grayish blue sky.

Walking down the streets, Eren couldn’t suppress the urge to look over his shoulder a few times, even though he knew nobody was stalking him.

 It felt as though a small weight lifted off his shoulders when he met up with Mikasa.

Dressed in her only coat, her velvet scarf wrapped neatly around her neck, and her cobalt hair lightly blowing strands across her face gave her a look of intimidating elegance. Her black coat made her difficult to spot when she walked through shadows, and the smooth gait making her footsteps almost completely silent. A feline on the prowl, calm, collected, and always aware of her surroundings, that was Mikasa.

Eren was sure she would have been at least ten times better at performing his jobs than he was.

“How was your day?” She asked quietly from beside him.

 “Nice.” Eren was glad his voice sounded completely casual. “My cakes sold pretty well, and Jean didn’t show his face.”

 She nodded--her normal sign of acknowledging an answer.

 “Yours?” Eren glanced at her.

 “It was nice, too.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they reached their destination; a small second-hand bookshop and trading shop where Armin worked part time four days a week.

As they were about to enter, the door opened and Armin walked outside in his slightly too big chestnut brown coat. The small bag he used for school supplies was slung over his shoulder, and his faded blue knitted scarf wrapped high around his neck, concealing his mouth.

 Eren couldn’t help but find Armin looking adorably amusing in clothes a few sizes too big for him. If Mikasa was a large feline, then Armin was a puppy, or a kitten. Eren couldn’t quite decide which.

Eren strode forth with a grin and slid and arm around Armin's shoulders.

Armin immediately leaned into Eren and pulled down his scarf a little so he could smile back at him.

Mikasa sidled up on Armin’s other side so close their arms were touching.

The three of them began their journey home.

 The sky turned dark quickly, and the streetlight provided the only source of light, leaving the small and narrow side alleys in impenetrable shadow. W

alking with Armin and Mikasa in the light, this was the only time Eren felt uneasy towards the darkness. He was usually the one lurking in shadows, knew well how easy it was to conceal oneself in them, to see without being seen. Who knew what lay waiting there now? He squeezed Armin a little closer.

 They had just reached an empty street when cold chills ran down Eren’s spine.

 Four large figures were approaching them.

 Eren wished they were just ordinary passersby, but he couldn’t deny recognising the signs of intimidation coming from them--the long strides, the confident swinging shoulders, and the way the group spread out across the whole width of the street. Eren had seen these types of people many times, but had never targeted them because they always seemed to travel in groups.

 Mikasa caught Eren’s eyes for a second, an immediate understanding between them. She subtly shuffled even closer to Armin and squeezed her shoulder against his.

Armin looked from Eren to Mikasa for a moment, and his expression turned serious in comprehension

Eren felt Armin stiffen a bit up against his side.

The men’s features became clear under the streetlights –their ages could range anywhere from mid twenties to mid thirties.

The one in the middle had a small, dark, braided beard which Eren would have usually found comical if the man hadn’t been gazing at them with a snide grin and a fierce gleam in his eyes. “Good evening, kids.” The man was only a few feet away now. “Out for a nice walk in the fresh night air, are we?”

 Eren ignored him, kept looking ahead, but still watching the group of men through his peripheral vision.

Armin pointedly looked forward with a blank expression.

 Mikasa’s face remianed stoic, her eyes like dark ice.

 “Hey, kids!” Another man with a pierced lower lip grinned. “We’re talking to you.”                                                                                                

The men were all starting to look excited and smile at each other conspiratorially.

 “Man, kids these days.” The one with the braided beard said, sounding amused. “They’re so rude. What would your parents say?”

 Warning bells chimed in Eren’s head. Eren already knew ignoring the men wouldn’t work this time. They had been so close to home too. Shady people seldom came to these parts. Why did it have to happen tonight when they were walking home?

 The four men spread out even more across the street, blocking the path.

Eren, Armin and Mikasa were forced to stop.

 “We don’t have any money.” said Eren firmly, trying to keep any hints of malice from his voice. “We have nothing.”

“Did we ask for money?” the bearded one’s upper lip curled up. “No, we didn’t. I merely asked you a question and you rudely ignored me. Such behaviour is hardly acceptable in polite society, now is it?”

The three other men nodded in agreement with the bearded one.

“We’re sorry,” Mikasa spoke up evenly. “Please forgive our disrespect.”

 The men looked a little taken aback at the apology. The bearded one traded a quick glance with his companions for a moment before regarding Eren, Armin and Mikasa.

 “Well, I suppose we could do that.” He scratched his beard briefly, as though for show. “We’re reasonable people, after all. I’ll tell you what, kids. You give us all you’ve got on you, and we say lesson well learnt.” His eyes moved to Armin’s bag for barely a second, making his intent clear.

 “We have nothing you would want. No money,” Eren said, feeling his voice strain a little. “There are only some old books in that bag.”

It was true. Mikasa never carried money if she wasn’t specifically running an errand to buy supplies. Armin didn’t bring money to work or school anymore either.

 “I’ll be the judge of that.” The man held out his palm. “Open the bag, kid.”

 Armin stiffly stepped out of Eren’s hold, removed the bag from his shoulder and opened it up carefully. He still kept his expression somewhat blank as he held the bag in front of him for display.

Eren knew Armin was trying to avoid eye contact with the thugs on purpose, to make himself less interesting, his presence bleaker, a necessary technique from the orphanage days for avoiding a gruesome fate.

 The bearded man peered inside the bag for a moment before taking it abruptly from Armin’s hands. He rummaged through the contents, which were indeed only old books Armin had borrowed from the bookshop’s storage.

“Good on you for telling the truth, kid.” The man sounded a lot less amused. “Only books in here. Alright then –”

He threw the bag back to Armin, who barely managed to catch it with fumbling hands.

“Empty your pockets.”

The beast within Eren growled, heat spreading through his body and making his fingers itch for the blade hidden in trouser pocket. Several different ways to cut through this man’s vital organs rushed through his mind. His hands twitched. This was humiliating. It would be so easy to just grab his knife and let the rage free... 

Armin’s settled back close to Eren’s side, and his arm brushed against him.

That’s right--Armin and Mikasa were here. He had to remain as calm as possible – avoid conflict – avoid a fight as long as you can. Those were Mikasa’s words to him from several years ago. Eren inhaled slowly through his nose and reached into his jacket pockets. His breath almost hitched. That’s right; he had coins in his pockets! Hardly enough to even buy a single wrapped candy, but nevertheless valuable when you needed everything you could get.

Eren hesitated, watched Armin and Mikasa turn the pockets of their coats inside out and revealing nothing, not even their house keys. Eren still didn’t know where Mikasa kept hers, but Armin didn’t carry one today.

The men looked disappointed, and the bearded one’s brows were furrowed.

Eren was tempted to say a smug ‘I told you so’, but the coins and one key turning hot from body heat against his hand, kept him quiet.

The bearded man’s hardening gaze turned to Eren. “You too. Turn the pockets.”

Eren wanted to swallow, but refrained, not wanting to look nervous. He turned out the empty pocket first, trying not to seem too slow. Meanwhile his mind was racing. Should he hide the coins and key in his hand and hope the men wouldn't notice? There was a good chance these men were familiar with the trick. Should he just hide the key then? The coins were regrettable but the key held more importance. Eren definitely didn’t want to grant thugs an open door to his home. He made his decision.

He curled his fingers around the key, and pushed it into his sleeve as he turned the pocket inside out. The five coins hit the cobble stones with light chimes.

The bearded man raised one eyebrow. “Well now. Looks like we have ourselves a liar.” The man’s lips pulled back into a small grin. “Your rudeness really hurts my feelings.”

Eren bit back a retort. He wanted to hurt more than the man’s feelings already.

“Pick up the money, boy. “ The man’s grotesque smile fell. “All of it.”

Armin and Mikasa’s anticipating gazes bore into Eren.

The last thing Eren wanted to do was bow down and pick up the coins, and it had nothing to do with handing over the money. He wanted to refuse, to growl an insult in the man’s face and walk away--or even better, end the man's existence right here. But of course he couldn't. No – he had to control himself for the sake of Armin and Mikasa.

Armin started to bend down.

Eren quickly grabbed his arm to stop him. Eren might not be able to save himself the humiliation, but he was definitely not letting Armin lower himself in front of scum like these men. With gritted teeth, he squat down and picked up the coins from around Armin’s feet.  When he rose back up again, the bearded man beckoned Eren to hold out his palm.

With a growling beast in his mind, Eren slowly held out his hand and the man swiftly took the coins from him.

“Thank you.” The man spoke in a horribly false sweet voice. “See? That was polite. But you lied to us, didn't you? It’s almost nothing, but –it’s still money. Lying is such a bad habit-” he turned to his group “isn't it, boys?”

The three other men nodded eagerly in agreement, malicious glints in their eyes.

“I think you need to learn your lesson a little better, kid.”

All eyes were on Eren now, closing him in, like a pack of wild dogs on prey.

Of course handing over all their money weren't enough. These men were like cats playing with their food, and Eren, Armin and Mikasa were the mice. For once, Eren cursed the lack of normal people on the streets at night in this town.

Eren quickly put his pockets back, sliding the key inside as he did.

The men were closing in now, surrounding them.

Eren stepped in front of Armin.

Mikasa did the same next to Eren, her eyes narrowed.

Take the beating willingly and hope to be in shape enough to walk home afterwards? Or fight back and run? Eren was sure these men were armed, and if they had guns...

In the blink of an eye, Mikasa launched a well aimed kick into a man’s stomach, sending him tumbling backwards.

The other men froze momentarily in surprise.

Eren seized the chance. He drew his arm back and released a quick punch.

The bearded man caught Eren’s gaze a split second before the punch hit him in an eye. The man cried out and stumbled, but didn’t fall.

Eren didn’t have time to land another punch.

Mikasa kicked another man in the diaphragm, creating an opening.

Eren spun round, grabbed hold of Armin’s coat and pulled him into a run.

Only a step later, Armin let out a gasp, and he was yanked out of Eren’s grip.

The force made Eren stumble and almost fall backwards. He turned back round just in time to see Armin being shoved down to the ground by one of the men.

Eren’s heart jumped into his throat. He let out a guttural yell, ran towards the man, reached inside his jacket and pulled out his knife. He sliced the sleek blade through the air.

The man managed to step back and the knife grazed his forearm, sending scarlet drops sailing.

Eren positioned himself between the thug and Armin.  “Touch him and die!” Eren snarled at the man, holding up his knife in a fighting stance, ready to strike at any moment. From the corner of his eye, Eren saw Armin getting back to his feet. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah...” Armin faint voice came from behind him.

Eren’s move had been the trigger. Knives were being pulled out from sleeves and pockets, reflecting flares of light.

Armin pressed close to Eren’s side.

Mikasa positioned herself back to back with Eren and Armin, the three of them forming a tiny circle.

Armin fumbled a little as he reached under his coat and found his knife. He held it up with a slight tremble in his hands, but his face determined.

Eren was used to ambushing – fighting head on with larger opponents stacked the odds horribly against his favour. Not that it would stop him.

The man directly in front of Eren was nursing the cut on his arm with a scowl on his face, looking like he was picturing Eren’s violent death.

Eren looked the man straight in the eyes, mentally promising to do a lot more damage should he come any closer.

“Now now, kids,” The bearded man hissed, and stepped forth. “Careful. You might hurt yourselves. Sharp objects are dangerous, you know.” The man’s face contorted into a furious grimace, a dark bruise already forming around his left eye.

Eren bared his teeth like a wolf in a silent growl, glaring at the men with fire in his eyes. The weight of his knife seemed to disappear, as though fusing with his hand. His skin itched with heated energy, the urge to attack engulfing him like a predator sinking its fangs into the soft flesh of prey.

 _No! Calm down._ This wasn’t a job. This was self preservation. This was protection. He wasn’t alone this time. Armin and Mikasa were here and ready to fight by his side. Eren couldn't see Mikasa’s face, but her killing intent hang palpable in the air, thick like a shield and pinning the men in front of her to their spot.

The standstill seemed to last for minutes, as though time had slowed down. The thugs’ eyes roamed over the three of them with scrutiny. Sizing them up like predators singling out the weakest in the pack.

Similarly, Eren kept looking for an opening to escape. If he ran now, Armin and Mikasa would be left open. They had to move together.

“You’re some damn interesting, kids, aren’t ya?” The bearded man gazed from Eren to Mikasa with narrow, burning eyes. “No stranger to the rough life. Used to fighting too - Or at least...Two of you are.”

The men moved so fast and with such perfect synchronisation, Eren didn’t have time to react. The bearded man charged towards Armin--

No!

But Eren could do nothing. Two men were looming over him like bears, coming at him with their knives.

Something heavy hit Eren’s side hard. A hand grabbed the wrist of his knife hand, pushing it upward. He fell to the ground and into a roll. Arms encircled his upper body, he saw a flash of blond hair, and caught the familiar scent. The rolling stopped and Eren looked up into the face of the person lying on top of him.

Armin.

A female voice grunted next to him, and he turned his head to see Mikasa swing back up on her feet. Armin’s weight disappeared from his chest, and a hand grabbed the front of his jacket.

“Quick. Get up!” Armin tugged at Eren’s jacket.

Eren didn’t need telling twice. He sprung to his feet, grabbed Armin’s hand and started bolting down the street. His knife still in hand, so he couldn't take a hold of Mikasa.

Mikasa silhouette appeared by Eren’s side in an instant.

The three of them were sprinting so fast Eren didn't have time to feel relief, his only focus was getting away as fast of he could. Their escape route led them in the opposite direction of home, but Eren didn’t care, he could find an alternate way.

He wasn't sure how many corners they had rounded before other people came into view. Eren didn't think he had ever been so glad to see normal people before in his life. He listened for pursuing footsteps, but there was none, and he finally slowed down to a hasty walk.

His own heartbeats pounded in his ears, and the grip on his knife was so tight his fingers ached. He looked round at the few people around and shakily tucked his knife into his pocket before anyone saw it.

Mikasa’s face came into view beside him, she was breathing a little harshly through her mouth, and her hair was windswept, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.

Eren heard Armin gasping to catch his breath, and he slowed down his pace even more. Armin’s hand was drenched in cold sweat, but Eren still held it tight.

 “You two okay?” Eren’s whispered.

“Y..yes,” Armin breathed.

Mikasa gave a quick nod.

The three of them walked along the wider streets for what felt like a very long time, and the amount of other people around grew scarcer. Eren didn't dare take his eyes and attention away from the surroundings as he led the way through several narrow alleyways. It wasn’t until the forest came into view, a black masse behind the scattering of small houses, that Eren finally slacked his grip on Armin’s hand and dared look at his face.

Eren’s heart constricted and his breath caught in his throat. His hands jumped to cup Armin’s jaw.

Armin flinched at the quick action, but didn't resist.

Eren pulled his head up to let the streetlight fall upon his face.

Dark red streaks leaked from a jagged wound running horizontally across Armin’s left cheekbone.

For a moment, the world spun, and Eren was back in the orphanage, sitting with Armin and Mikasa on a bed in a dark corner.

A few feet away, a ten year old boy lay on a mattress and vomited copiously onto the floor. He had fallen and cut his cheek on a nail protruding from a piece of wood in the yard. The wound was a few weeks old already, and oozing white pus, the flesh around it swollen with a dark shade of purple and red.

The door at the end of the room banged open, casting a square of light into the large room.

Two female workers stomped inside and over to the sick boy. The adults grabbed the boy by his arms and clothes and hoisted him up.

The boy’s head lolled, red vomit dribbling down his chin.

“Ugh, how disgusting.  And he can’t even walk.” One of the workers scrunched up her nose. “We can’t keep him here.”

“The director will not be happy about this.” The other looked around with a hard-set expression. “If we lose another one...”

“Hush!” The first one whispered. “Not in here, Gerd. Come, let’s get going. I can’t stand the stench much longer.”

The workers dragged the limp boy from the room, leaving the puddles of sick behind.

Eren never saw the boy again. Since then Eren had always been extremely attentive to any injuries Armin and Mikasa sustained. Now Armin sported a cut in the exact same place as the boy from all those years ago.

“You said you were okay!” Eren blurted. “Which one did it? Was it the one with the stupid beard? That bastard--”

“I am okay, really. It’s just a surface cut,” Armin said. “I must have been grazed when I pushed you down. It looks worse than it is, really. Head wounds bleed more.”

“Are you sure?” Eren leaned his head closer and inspected the cut carefully. “What if it gets infected--”

“Calm down, Eren.” Mikasa’s hand landed gently on Eren’s shoulder. “We’re all still on edge. But we’ll take care of it when we get home.”

Eren looked her in the eyes, then blew out a sighed. “You’re right.” Eren let go of Armin’s face. “We need to get away from the open. Let’s go.”  He grabbed Armin’s hand again, and Mikasa’s sleeve. He practically dragged the other two down the tiny road.

Eren sat squeezed in next to Armin on the sofa, anxiously watching Mikasa dab a wet cloth at the wound on Armin’s face.

She reached for a teaspoon and little jar of honey from the table, applied one spoonful of the liquid onto the cloth and lightly smeared it across Armin’s wound. They made sure to keep honey in the house at all times ever since Armin had read a book about herbal home remedies. When she was done, she put a strip of bandage on the wound and handed Armin another spoonful of honey to eat, just in case.

The only lamp in the living room cast a soft yellow light upon Armin’s face, making his fair hair seem to glisten like the honey he was eating. Golden and warm, with the shining baby blue eyes, Armin was like the very personification of a bright summer’s day.

Eren wanted to bathe in that warmth and he almost gave into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in Armin’s hair. Instead he leaned his shoulder against Armin’s, and inhaled the scent he had grown so incredibly familiar with, slightly obscured by the sweet smell of honey. Eren thought it only complimented Armin’s summery smell further. Maybe he should get him some honey-scented soap...

Armin was alive. Mikasa was alive. They had made it through another ordeal. Armin had been the one who pushed Eren out of the way. Armin had saved them.

“You saved us, Armin, didn’t you?” Eren smiled gently, and lowered his voice to an almost whisper. “What even happened back then? Everything was so fast.”

“I could see what those men were going to do,” Armin chewed his lower lip. “They could tell I was the weak spot. When I saw them glancing at each other, it was like they were silently telling each other what to do. So I moved right before they did. I could only grab one of you, so I gave Mikasa a little shove right before I pushed you down. I lost my knife, though. Sorry”

Eren hugged Armin tightly, finally giving in and burying his face in the golden hair. “You’re amazing, I’ve told you that, right?”

“Only so many times I’ve lost count.” Armin chuckled.

“Good,” Eren rested his chin on Armins’ shoulder.

“It was brilliant.” Mikasa wrapped her own arms around Armin, and kissed his uninjured cheek.

A light shade of pink colored Armin’s face. “It was just quick thinking.”

“It was life saving thinking.” Eren kissed the top of his head. “Don’t worry about the knife. We’ll get you another one.” He ruffled Armin’s hair playfully.

“It’s not sure they would have killed us, though,” said Armin. “It was in the middle of a street, after all. But then again they did look pretty mad.”

“You can never know exactly what those kinds of people will do.” Eren sank back down into the cushions. “It could have been like last time, for all we know. I--I felt myself almost lose it again--I was really scared--that it would end like last time.”

“But it didn’t.” Armin put a hand on Eren’s. “We got through it. You got through it. That’s what matters.”

Eren met Armin’s eyes, gentle and innocent, like a baby animal, despite the horrors they had seen.  Comforting warmth burst in Eren’s heart, and it felt as though his whole body sighed with relief. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.  “Yeah...I guess you’re right.”

Dinner that night was a vegetable soup Mikasa had made earlier and stored in the fridge. After they had eaten, Armin massaged Eren’s shoulders while he sat between Armin’s legs. One particular knot was too insistent for Armin and Mikasa tried to loosen it instead, but Eren just yelped in pain and begged Armin to take over again, muttering about Mikasa always being so rough with him these days.

They sat up later than usual, cuddled up on the coach together and playing their own little card game. Being so close to each other, it was impossible to hide their hands, and as always, it resulted with each of them putting out cards favourable to the others. In the end, they had to end their game when Armin was half asleep with his head on Eren’s shoulder.

* * *

The man’s face twisted in a scowl, his mouth opened in a silent yell as he charged towards Eren.

Adrenaline shot through Eren’s veins and his whole body tensed up. Weapon! He needed a weapon! A knife appeared in his hand – had he been holding it the whole time?

The man reached out a large palm, aiming for Eren’s throat. Eren cut off the fingers. The hand withdrew but another took its place. Eren swung a cut at the wrist, severing the whole hand off this time.

The man’s face came into view – skinless and red, muscles bulging. The mouth opened wide, showing yellowing teeth and a saliva coated tongue. The mouth enlarged as the man neared, the jaws breaking open.

Eren wanted to scream but no sound came. He was going to be eaten! He leaped, high like a jaguar. He swung his knife, now longer like a dagger, and sliced into a large shining black eye.

Burning hot liquid washed over Eren as the man exploded. Steam erupted everywhere and Eren stood on the ground again.

“Eren!”

He stiffened. He knew that voice! He turned around.

The steam evaporated and there stood Armin, in his oversized blue jumper, a book under his arm. He waved at Eren with a bright smile on his face, like always.

Before Eren could respond, Mikasa appeared at Armin’s side, her red scarf blowing lightly in the wind, her white nightgown contrasting vividly with her black hair.

Eren wanted to run towards them. He moved his legs but couldn’t move.

The man was back again, in front of him, separating him from Armin and Mikasa. He reached for Eren again with two perfectly healthy hands.

Eren jumped aside and bolted towards his waiting friends, but the man cut him off again. Eren thrust his dagger into the man’s chest, but the attack was ineffective.

The man kept reaching for him. He cut through the man’s hand, stabbed his throat and stomach. Nothing worked. The man kept walking towards him.

Eren tried to twist past him, to run around him.

The man blocked his path every time.

He needed to get to Armin and Mikasa! He would die if he didn't, and they would die too!

His heart banged against his chest. He choked on his own breath. He clutched at his chest with his free hand and gulped in as much oxygen as he could. He cut into the man’s forearm with his dagger and screamed. “Why won’t you die?”

Eren didn't know when he had cut off the man’s legs, but despite being a crawling mess on the floor, the man persisted. He reached out for Eren no matter what, now with a sadistic crooked smile on his mangled face.

Eren screamed his throat raw while cutting and stabbing violently into the man at his feet. “Die! Die! Leave me alone! Leave them alone! Leave! Go away!”

His lungs were too small; he couldn't get enough air into them, his chest burned like acid...

Eren’s eyes flew open and he gasped out a ragged breath. A lump in his throat ached and tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness. He gripped the nearest thing he could in a death grip--a shirt. He realised he was pressed up against a warm body, and a familiar scent washed over him.

Armin. Armin was here. He was safe.

Eren’s whole chest ached with suppressed sobs. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, and Eren pressed his face against the crook of Armin’s neck. “Armin. Help me.” The lump in his throat made his voice cracked and weak. He pressed as much of his body against Armin’s as he could and tangled their legs together under the blankets.

His lungs were burning, his throat too tight to breath. Every gulp of air made him feel like sobbing, but he didn't even have the strength to cry. Was he dying? He pressed himself further against Armin’s chest.

Armin put one arm around his waist, hugging him even closer, while the other snuck under his head.

Eren felt light fingers entwined into his hair.

Pleasant shivers flowed down Eren’s back like light caresses. The pressure around his upper body seemed to subside with each gentle and slow stroke through his hair. He let out a shaky breath against Armin’s neck.  His eyes closed and he slackened his grip on Armin’s shirt, content to let his senses turn fuzzy and slip into a comforting slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

Trost--a town too small to be called a city, and too big to be considered a town.  A world of cobbles and preserved old wooden and stone buildings intermingling with newer more modern brick designs, making a maze of small, cramped streets and back alleys.

“Not a bad place to commit serial murders.” Levi sat with his hands linked under his chin.

The group of five sat around a kitchen table, temporarily moved into the living room of the lower flat.

“If we could only find out where the killer takes the bodies...” Gunter gravely crossed his arms.  

“How are we supposed to find them if we can’t trace a specific location?” Petra asked from the opposite side.

Auruo opened his mouth so say something, but then closed it and chewed on nothing.

Erd and Gunter looked down at their laps in silence.

“I have a method.” Levi lifted his head from his chin and straightened his back. “First, let’s summarize what we know about the killer so far. Gunter.”

All eyes turned to Gunter.

“Ah, yes.” Gunter cleared his throat. “Based on your conclusions, sir. We know the killer utilized the narrow alleys well and probably lies there in ambush for his victims, which means he has extensive knowledge about the town’s layout.  He kills the victims on the spot and carries the bodies away without leaving a trace. “

“It’s also safe to say he prefers stabbing as a method of killing.” Levi drummed two fingers on the wooden table top. “He is also strong enough to carry another adult some distance, probably on his back. We don’t know how far.”

“You think he hides the bodies somewhere close by?” Gunter said. “It would be simpler for him, or her.”

“Difficult to say. “ Levi said. “It’s just as possible as carrying them to the other side of town, really.”

“We can’t exactly just search every building in town, though, can we?” Petra said. “And we’d need a warrant, and that could take a week.”

“Or longer.” Erd spoke up. “The last time was problematic enough. It’s not safe to assume the boss can manage to get one this time.”

“We don’t need one.” Levi said. “Not yet, anyway. I said I have a way to make use of our time. We cannot search any occupied buildings - legally. We could take a look at the abandoned ones however...Let’s have a look at the area around Trost. Petra, what’s in the East?”

“You mean outside of town, like the outskirts?” Petra said. “It’s all agriculture from what I found.”

“And west?”

“It’s forestation.” Erd said. “So is the north.”

“The south?”

“More trees.” Aouro blew out a long breath.

“So west, south and north is all forest.” Levi concluded. “In other words, an awful lot of privacy and hiding spots.”

Petra’s brow creased. “You think the killer is hiding the bodies in the forest?”

“I don’t know.” Levi rose from his seat. “And that’s the problem. We don’t know if the bodies are hidden in a building. We don’t have any clues leading to a specific location. However, we still need to make use of our time until we do. We can’t search random buildings, but we can search the forest freely. We need to look where we can for now. So we check out the local forest. If we don’t find anything, we cross it off the list.”

“Process of elimination.” Erd said.

“In a sense.” Levi said. “So here’s what we do. We spread out. Go as far as you feel, but no more than half an hour’s walk away from the outskirts. Take note of any trails. Be back before sunset. We go further tomorrow.”

“R-Right now?” Petra exclaimed.

“Right now.” Levi nodded.

* * *

Eren awoke with a pleasant lightness in his chest, his body engulfed in warmth from the blankets. Armin’s body pressed close to his own, their limbs tangled together. He could feel Mikasa lying back to back with him--watching his back even in her sleep. One of Armin’s arms pressed underneath Eren’s head, probably asleep. Eren ducked his head and scooted himself a little further down the mattress to take the pressure off. Armin’s breath ghosted over Eren’s forehead, the rhythm slow and steady.

Eren didn’t want to open his eyes yet, didn’t want to disturb the moment. If only he could sleep a little longer. When the sweet drowsiness wore off, he reluctantly opened his eyes and gazed up at Armin’s face. The bandage across Armin’s cheek served as a gut-wrenching reminder of last night’s events.

It had been too close a call, though Eren supposed he should feel grateful only one of them sustained an injury – a small one.

Phantom chills still raced up and down Eren’s spine. He couldn’t stop himself, he held Armin a little tighter, assured his body still carried that wonderful warmth and steady heartbeat.

With relief, Eren looked over his shoulder. The little clock next to the door showed it was only an hour and a half until Armin had to go to school. He drank in Armin’s peaceful expression and wild bed hair for a few minutes longer, before he gently shook his shoulder and murmured it was morning.

Armin opened his eyes with a little moan, and stared at Eren’s face, not yet fully conscious.

Eren smiled at him and stroked his shoulder.

Armin sat up and rubbed his eyes. His hair tangled in golden disarray.

Mikasa woke up as well. After a good morning greeting, she hurried to the dresser, grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom.

Eren and Armin started to change in the bedroom.

Eren had just removed his shirt when his eyes fell on Armin’s thin waist.

A lump formed in his stomach and he momentarily froze to the spot.

Along Armin’s hips and shoulder blades, purple and blue bruises littered the pale skin like paint blotches.

Eren remembered the last time he saw Armin’s bare upper body – a good three days ago. He had definitely not looked like that.

Armin noticed Eren staring at him and paused in the process of taking out clothes from a drawer. “Eren?”

“What happened?” Eren reached out and put a couple of fingers on a large dark bruise right above Armin’s hip bone.

Armin winched and let out a small hiss.

“Sorry!” Eren retracted his hand. “When did – what are they--?”

Armin looked away. “They’re from yesterday, when we rolled on the ground. You have some too.”

Eren looked down at his own torso, seeing a few blue spots along his hipbones. “Yeah, but...mine are small.” He stepped forward and put his arms around Armin’s waist.

Armin watched him with a puzzled expression.

Their chests touched. Armin’s skin felt cold against Eren’s warm body. A shiver feathered through him. “Do they hurt a lot?”

“Not really,” Armin mumbled. “Unless you push on them.”

Eren swallowed and started tracing small circles on the bruises on Armin’s hips with his thumbs. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Armin looked up at Eren’s face.

His heart hammered a little harder, and Eren averted his gaze. He squeezed Armin a little closer, mindful of the bruises. “Just...I dunno. That you got hurt, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault.” Armin said and embraced Eren, locked his hands behind his lower back. “If anything you saved me yesterday. That one guy almost had me and you got him off me.” He put his chin on Eren’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?” Eren spoke into Armin’s hair. “You’re the one who saved us all. You’re the hero here, not me.”

“That’s an awful way to take a compliment, you know.” Armin hugged Eren tighter, dipped his head and smiled into Eren’s shoulder. “Let’s agree we all saved each other, then. Like we always do.”

“Or we could just praise Mikasa as our savior.” Eren chuckled. “She’ll be so annoyed.”

Armin’s small laugh tickled Eren’s skin.

“Say, Armin,” Eren began. “How long has it been since we last hugged like this?”

“Few weeks...” Armin said. “Or months...maybe.”

The two of them stayed silent for a while, holding each other close and sharing body warmth.

Eren kept gently tracing circles along Armin’s bruises with his thumbs.

Armin’s shivered and goose bumps littered his skin.

Under Eren’s fingertips, he felt Armin’s bones too prominently than he preferred.

“Eren,” Armin whispered. “Are you...okay?”

A lump formed in Eren’s throat and he suppressed a sigh. He knew the answer, though he couldn’t admit it, not even to Armin. Not yet. “...Yeah.” Eren breathed. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good,” Armin gave Eren a little squeeze and relaxed. “I’m really cold now. I’d like to put some clothes on.”

“Oh right.” Eren smiled sheepishly and stepped back. “Yeah, I’m cold too. Let’s get dressed.” He reluctantly let go of Armin, and immediately missed the soft touch.

The two of them dressed in a hurry before going into the living room, where Mikasa already had prepared breakfast for them.

While they munched on their bread, Eren brought up the topic of Armin’s missing knife.

The thought of Armin going around completely unarmed made Eren’s throat seem tight and food difficult to swallow.  “Until we get you a new knife, Mikasa and I will walk with you everywhere.”

 “That – that’s not necessary,” Armin said. “I mean, it’s safe in daylight. I’ll be fine by myself to and from school. Even going to work-”

“No.” Eren put his piece of bread down on the plate. “Not without a weapon. Take my knife. I’ll be fine going to work without it. You need it more.”

 “I can’t take a knife to school,” Armin exclaimed. “If anyone finds out, I’ll be expelled!”

“But – but didn’t you always keep your knife on you?” Eren said.

Armin swallowed audibly. “Not really. I – I usually left it at home. I only took it with me when going to work. I couldn’t risk someone finding out somehow. The teachers would be mad. I’d be sent to the headmaster and expelled for possession of a dangerous item on school property.”

“Oh. Yeah - You’re right. Of course you can’t bring that to school. But then you can borrow mine after school.” Eren insisted. “And you can come by the café and pick up the knife on the days I can’t walk you home. No – actually – I can just leave it here for you. That way you don’t have to take a detour!”

Armin chewed his lip and looked down at his lap.

“I agree with Eren.” Mikasa piped up. “I would also feel more at ease if you didn’t go alone unarmed.”

Armin looked up at Mikasa, and Eren could see the thoughts racing in his head. Outnumbered, Armin’s expression softened, and Eren knew he would consent. “Okay. Neither of you can get off work to walk me home every day, though. But I guess walking to school every morning is a good idea.”

Eren relaxed back into the sofa cushions and smiled a little guilty at Armin, then picked his bread back up and took a bite.

“I’m sorry if you feel smothered.” Mikasa said. “We’re just worried. It’s just for a week, until things calm down.”

“It’s fine.” Armin smiled at her. “You guys already give me so much and I – I just don’t want you to exert yourselves more than necessary. I’m worried too, you know.”

“Don’t think about that.” Eren swallowed a mouthful and grinned. “You don’t have to worry about us. I have plenty of time in the morning anyway. We’ve walked to school together a lot before, so it’s fine.”

The conversation ended there, and the three finished their breakfast in silence. When Armin was done eating, he cleaned his own wound and applied a little honey before Mikasa put a new band aid on it.

Eren was relieved to see the cut had shrunk since yesterday and already starting to scab over.

As Armin used the bathroom first, with only forty minutes left before school, Mikasa approached Eren. “I come home before Armin goes to work. I’ll lend him my knife then. So you can keep yours.”

“But it’s fine. It’s not like I need it to work or anything,” Eren said.

“No.” Mikasa took a step towards him. “It makes more sense for me to give Armin my knife when I get home.” Her mouth was set in a thin line, and her eyes seemed softer than usual.

“I guess...you have a point but…” Eren sighed and scratched his neck. “You’ll be fine without yours?”

Mikasa nodded.

“Well...” Eren said. “Okay then.”

Mikasa’s mouth formed a tiny smile, and tension seemed to leave her shoulders.

Eren hastily finished up in the bathroom afterwards, with the ridiculous thought Armin might try to leave without him, and he tripped over the toilet brush and almost slammed his head into the sink. His worry quelled when he found Armin waiting for him by the door.

“I’ll go with you too.” Mikasa said, starting towards her shoes.

“That’s okay. We’ll be fine.” Eren said as he pulled on his jacket. “You have work before I do, if you go with us you won’t get there on time, right?”

“I – You’re right.” Mikasa sighed. “I would be late.”

“Don’t overdo yourself for my sake.” Armin finished buttoning his coat. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll just go straight to work too. So you don’t have wait for me to come back before you leave. Okay?” Eren said.

Mikasa nodded.

Eren swore he saw a barely visible frown on her face, before he opened the door and stepped outside with Armin.

As soon as Armin’s figure disappeared behind the school’s double glass doors, Eren turned on his heel and started down the road at a brisk walk. Although Eren reveled in spending time alone with Armin, he wouldn’t have minded Mikasa coming along if it wasn’t for what he needed to do next.

A few minutes later, Eren reached the country roads.

Before him, the forest lay bathed in white light, the leaves of the birch trees seemed to shine bright yellow and the morning dew reflected the sunlight like glittering pearls. Birds chirped in the distance, their tunes beckoning like a promise of peace and safety.

A weight lifted from Eren’s stomach, he breathed in deeply and entered the inviting forest with careful steps.

The soft bright green moss, covering the ground like a blanket, muffled his footsteps, and only a few crunchy leaves signaled his presence.

He did his best to twist under low branches and away from bushes while almost getting lost in the peaceful beauty around him.

Light rays shone through canopies of red, brown and yellow overhead, and water droplets sparkled on pine needles like twinkling lights.

Eren took several deep breaths, inhaling the fresh smell of the vegetation. As he exhaled, the forest seemed to draw away all his worries and anxieties, absorbed them, and left Eren with a lighter heart.

He walked for a few more minutes before something caught his attention.

The smatter of voices, barely tangible, came from somewhere around him. 

Eren stopped and listened.

The voices gradually grew louder, getting closer.

He didn’t hear the clatter of hooves - horseback riders were out of the question this time. Hikers then?

Not too uncommon on the paths, but this early in the morning? Then again, Eren only went into the forest on mornings when he had to, so he didn’t have the full knowledge of daytime hiking treks. Deciding to avoid the usual trails, and stay to the areas where humans didn’t usually walk, Eren continued his journey.

He made it all the way to the hidden rucksacks without meeting anyone. He picked up the spade he had left there on the way back from his last job, and skillfully made his way to the riverbank within half an hour. After carefully hiding the spade back under the usual bush, he started on his way to work. The walk out of the forest had Eren straying a bit too close to the hiking paths and he heard more voices. Not wishing to be seen, a quick detour took him to a small neighborhood, through which he made his way into town.

* * *

Levi’s footsteps were completely silenced by the mossy ground. The beauty of the forest didn’t seem to do anything to change Levi’s deadpan expression, though his eyes looked a little less strained, and the shadows under them a little less prominent. Levi halted at a crossroad of paths and stood there in silence.

Petra came into sight, jogging on a narrow dirt trail towards Levi.

Behind her sprinted Gunter.

They both reached Levi at the same time.

As Petra and Gunter caught their breaths, Auruo and Erd approached from another trail.

With all four of them gathered around him, Levi jumped straight to the point. “What did you find?”

“We went quite far but then we found a river and...“ Petra said, still a little out of breath, “Well maybe we could cross it further up, but we didn’t have time to go that far yet.”

“A river, you say?” Levi said. “Rivers are useful. What direction did the stream flow?”

“The water?” Petra said. “Um...well I think it was towards north-west – that’s the way the river seemed to lead –”

“No – I mean – did the water flow towards or away from Trost?” Levi corrected.

“Oh...” Petra scratched her pinkish cheek. “In that case, then it would be away from town.”

Levi’s eyes gleamed in the sunlight for a moment. “Interesting.” He looked round at them all “Everyone, come with me. Petra, Gunter!”

“Y-yes!”

“Sir?”

“Lead the way to the river. I need to confirm something. I’ll tell you when we get there.”

“Yes, sir!” Gunter and Petra said at once and quickly turned on their heels and started down the trail.

Levi followed.

Behind Levi, Erd looked intrigued.

Auruo raised his eyebrows and scratched his chin.

After a short trek up and down the uneven trails, the soft whoosh of moving water breezed through the trees, the group came upon a riverbank and stopped.

Levi looked impassively down at the dark water.

“This part is pretty deep.” Auruo crossed his arms. “We’d need to swim if we cross. Hope you brought your bathing suits.”

Petra frowned at Auruo. “Who’d carry their bathing suit around in the middle of autumn? Honestly. We’re on a mission.”

“Tha-that was a joke,” Auruo mumbled, looking disappointed.

“No swimming today.” Levi turned to them. “We don’t need to cross. At least not here.”

“Should we try and find an appropriate place then?” Petra said.

“Not exactly. Erd, Auruo, you follow the river that way.” Levi pointed down the riverbank. “It leads toward Trost, but we don’t know how close to the town. Find out. Watch each side of the river. Decide between yourselves who looks at which side.”

“What else are we looking for?” Erd asked. “Anything particular?”

“Anything suspicious or interesting,” Levi said. “Petra, Gunter, you’re with me. We follow the river in the other direction. We will all meet back here whenever we feel we have seen enough. Everyone got it?”

“Yes, sir!” The four chorused.

The group spread out. Levi walked with Petra and Gunter beside him until the vegetation and large rocks made the ground horribly uneven.

A few minutes into the trek, the riverbank grew steeper and Petra had to grab hold of several tree branches for support to avoid sliding into the river.

The ground turned spongier the farther they went. Their feet sunk into the mushy grass.

Gunter and Petra grunted, pulled their feet up with plopping sounds.

Levi’s muttered to himself. “Gross.”

After splashing their way through a deep path of mud, they finally reached dry ground.

Petra tripped on a root.

Gunter and Levi barely managed to catch each of her arms in time to prevent her from tumbling into the water.

After another five minutes, they were walking on rocks specked with moss and the gentle sloshing of the river accompanied the sounds of their footsteps. A crow cried out from overhead.

All three of them halted at once at the sight appearing between a cluster of bushes.

“What is…Is that...blood?” Petra breathed.

Levi weaved his way between the bushes and walked up to the brownish red stains covering the rocky bank.  He halted and surveyed the scene. After a few moments, he waved Gunter and Petra over to him.

As Petra reached him, she let out a little breath.

“What in the...Why would there be blood here?” said Gunter. “Is it an animal?”

Gunter and Petra looked to Levi.

 Levi kept gazing at the river behind the blood covered rocks. “No. This is probably not from an animal. Unless it was killed by a human.”

Gunter frowned at the rocks. “Surely hunting doesn’t leave this much mess?”

“No, usually not.” Levi scrunched up his nose. “This place reeks.”

Petra’s face turned paler.

 Gunter’s back rigid with tension.

Levi turned to them with dark eyes. “Look at the way the blood dried, running down the rocks and into the water. This place...the amount of blood here, conveniently right above the river flowing away from town– this is probably a slaughter bench.”

“What?” Gunter’s eyes widened.

“S-slaughter of what?” Petra whispered.

“That…” Levi turned his back to her. “Is what we need to find out.”

“Sir, you don’t think the killer-?”

“Huntsmen skin their game. Skilled people spill little blood, and they don’t cut up their catch in the woods unless they have to. Meat would attract flies and be contaminated quickly. We didn’t have an easy path up here. It’s inconvenient. People don’t find this place unless they’re looking for it – or just wants to climb around for some damn reason.”

“So this really could be where the killer...” Petra whispered. “Where he cuts...”

Levi nodded once. “There has to be a simpler way to get here, though. The killer carries the bodies. Imagine a one-hundred-and-seventy pound adult on your back up that damn mud slide, in the dark no less. Unless our killer is superhuman or some shit, he wouldn’t have followed the river like we did. Too uneven and slippery.”

“Maybe he comes from the opposite direction?” Gunter suggested.

“Wouldn’t that be a horribly long route from town?” Petra said.

“We need to search the place.” Levi said. “But we have to be careful. Treat this as a crime scene. Be very delicate. We have already left footprints here, we must be careful not to leave any more signs. We need to see if there is another way to get here – like a trail – and anything else hidden nearby.”

Petra and Gunter nodded and reached into their coats, retrieved white plastic gloves and put them on. They spread out and started to lift bush branches with the tips of their fingers, as though the plants were made of glass.

Levi turned back to the bloodied rocks, stepped a little closer and crouched down. He studied the indentations in the stone surface with narrow eyes.

“Hey! I found something!” Petra called. “I’m not sure – wait – it’s some kind of tool, I think.”

Levi stood up and stepped over to Petra.

Petra held pine bush branches aside. A blue wooden handle could be seen sticking out from underneath, the paint flaked and small cracks marred the surface. As Petra pushed the bush further away, a spade became visible.

“Well, now.” Levi said. “This is interesting.”

Gunter walked up behind Petra and peered over her head.

“A spade. So if this place is really used by a killer, does that mean he buries the bodies?”

“Perhaps.” Levi said. “But there’s more here. Move those branches.”

Petra lifted up the branches Levi pointed at, and revealed the head of an axe.

“That’s - !”

“That explains the blood.” Gunter said. “He must be pretty strong if he’s using an axe – or very skilled at using one at least. Probably cut a lot of wood.”

“The axe is clean.” Levi remarked. “The spade is a little rusty.”

“So the spade is old.” Petra said. “But the axe is new?”

“No. The axe isn’t new. It’s just clean.” Levi said. “It’s been washed, pretty regularly too – probably in the river. The spade hasn’t. There’s still dirt on it.”

“So the spade was used recently?” Petra said.

 “Could be a few days. Could be a few weeks.” Levi said. “But if our killer uses this place...” He turned and gazed at the rocks again for a moment, then back Petra and Gunter. “Don’t move anything. Don’t touch the axe or the spade. We have to leave everything exactly where it is.”

“Why? Are we getting Erd and Auruo?” Petra asked.

“No.” Levi said. “Not now. We need to see how the killer gets up here first. There has to be another way...”

Petra and Gunter nodded and resumed their search. Levi walked between the trees, his eyes darted from the batches of leaves still left on the trees, to the heather and naked blueberry bushes. He halted in front of a flat spot of moss next to a blueberry bush sporting broken branches. “So this is where you come through…” He scouted the vicinity without moving, then turned and walked back to the others. “Anything?”

“Not really.” Gunter said. “He can’t get here from the other side of the river – too wide to cross.”

“And we need to go further down the bank to see if it’s easier to use that way.” Petra said.

“He comes from over there.” Levi pointed between the trees. “The ground is trodden down and branches broken, so something heavy has been walking there – somebody human.”

“Then it really is confirmed, isn’t it?” Petra said. “The killer uses this place to...”

Levi said nothing.

“But why?” said Gunter. “Why does he cut them up? Easier to burry?”

“You don’t think he’s...” Petra whispered. “Eating...”

“No.” Levi said flatly. “He wouldn’t dream of it. Our killer is a vigilante type. He doesn’t place enough value on what he kills.”

Petra visibly relaxed, and even Gunter seemed relieved.

“So then why?” Gunter said.

“Working on it.” Levi said. “I have a theory, but we have to meet up with the others first.”

* * *

A couple of days passed during which Eren floated on a thin cloud of artificial safety.

Armin kept borrowing Mikasa’s knife on his way to work.

Although no incident had occurred so far, Eren found himself more and more strung up with concern. What if the thugs wanted revenge and started looking for them? What if one day, Eren and Mikasa walked with Armin home from work and the thugs waited for them in an alley? Thoughts like this had Eren insisting they take an alternative route home every evening, and although it took them a few extra minutes to get there, they didn’t encounter any dangers or obstacles. Still, Armin’s lack of weapon had Eren more on edge than usual, and he wanted to get Armin a new knife as soon as possible.

Walking to work in the mornings were the worst, being alone as the ghosting warmth from Armin’s body still lingered against Eren’s side, made his head spin with the urgency to acquire Armin with means of protection.

Eren’s saw an image of the forest. The rucksacks--inside lay a knife with a thick blade, a slight curve in the middle, nine inches long, and a handle shaped to fit curling fingers.  No, he couldn’t give Armin that knife, the one solemnly seen by Eren and his targets, heavier and burlier than his own sleek blade. The knife from that time. If Eren started carrying it around...What if Armin saw it and recognised it? Surely, he would wonder why Eren still had it...

No matter how much Eren wanted to repress it, he still vividly remembered the last time Armin didn’t have a knife on him. In his mind’s eye, Eren saw Armin pinned harshly against a grimy wall by a looming figure...A blade glinted in the light from a lonely streetlamp. A hitched breath as a mouth pulled back into manic glee...

Eren swallowed the lump in his throat, and forced himself to take three steady breaths. Never again!

One evening, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa looked through their savings – hidden under the floorboards in three different parts of the flat per Armin’s idea - and found just enough money to pay the monthly rent and food with nothing to spare.  With this month’s paychecks already received, the three didn’t have hopes of extra money, unless they started digging into Armin’s school tuition, which was completely out of the question.

No matter how much Eren wanted Armin to be able to protect himself, he was not going to jeopardize the only education they could pay for.

Eren had contemplated giving Armin his knife permanently and figured Mikasa would probably suggest her knife instead, but that still wouldn't solve the issue of being one knife short. They needed more money, the quicker the better.

While cleaning the café, Eren wondered if he could sell something. What did he have to sell, though? The furniture in the flat belonged to the landlord. Eren needed the only sets of clothes he owned, and all other personal belongings were strictly essentials. The only item he could think of wasn't even an item at all... _My body?_

He remembered Mikasa completely forbid him turning to human experimentation when he had half jokingly suggested it a year ago. Since then, Eren had come to agree with her. Then the other option would be...those types of services.

Eren’s skin crawled just thinking about middle age slobs breathing the stench of tobacco in his face, and leering at him with brown stained teeth while their swarthy hands roamed all over his body...

_I think I’m going to be sick..._

All through lunch, Eren had to suppress his mind’s runaway visualizations of very vivid and descriptive types of work he could offer on the streets, and he almost barfed up his sandwich several times.

Eren’s hands felt like jelly as he retrieved and bagged customer orders and put the payment into the register. He almost dropped a couple of buns on the floor and hastily apologised to the business man waiting for his order. The man had silently handed Eren the money and left with a huff.

Eren sighed softy, glad Owner Kirschtein hadn’t been around to see his poor work performance. If only this day could be over already, before he really did mess it up badly.

“Excuse me? Erm, excuse me?”                                                                                                                                       

The soft female voice startled Eren out of his melancholy thoughts. He jumped a little and realised a customer was standing before him. “Oh, ah, sorry. What can I get for you?”

“I should be the one to say sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”  The young woman smiled pleasantly at him, a stray lock of short honey blonde hair few inches longer than Armin’s – Mikasa’s length, Eren realized--fell across her face. Her hazel doe eyes looked kindly at him.

“It’s fine. I just spaced out for a second.” Eren scratched his neck. “Probably shouldn’t be doing that at work and all. Please don’t tell anyone.”

The woman chuckled and leaned in a little over the counter, her petite figure so short Eren could tell she rose up on tiptoe. She whispered to him with a twinkle in her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone as long as you can point me to the best cake in Trost.”

Eren couldn’t help but grin at her. “Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place. Every one of our cakes is ranked the best in town – no - in the whole of Rose.”

“Oh really?” She said. “You aren’t just saying that because you work here, are you?”

“Well...” Eren smiled sheepishly, “Well, okay maybe. But I can guarantee these cakes are very good.”

“I will take your word for it then.” She stepped back from the counter and on her feet again. “But which one would you recommend as the absolute best?”

“Erm, well, I don’t know what you like but,” Eren looked around for a moment, deciding. “But the creamy carrot cake is our best seller, and the chocolate cake is a close second.”

“Oh, they both look delicious.” She said and peered at the cakes on display behind the glass cases. “I think I will try the carrot cake then.”

“Excellent choice.” Eren said, and picked up the cake shovel. “One – two slices?”

“Five slices, please.” She said, holding up five fingers and smiling.

“Five?” Eren blurted before he could stop himself. “Not that I wouldn’t like to sell you five but, this cake is pretty filling.”

“I’m sharing with my travel buddies. They’re starting to get a bit grumpy so I’m hoping to cheer them up with a treat.”

“Oh, well this should do the trick then, probably.” Eren put the cake slices into a small white cardboard box. “I surprised my best friends with cupcakes a few days ago too.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” She said. “What’s your name?”

 Eren bit his lip and closed the box. “Erm, it’s Eren.”

“Nice to meet you Eren.” She held out her right hand. “I’m Petra.”

“Oh eh, nice to meet you, Petra.” Eren wiped his hand on his apron before taking hers and shaking it, while politely bowing his head.

“So, Eren, can you tell me what the best spots in town are?” She leaned forward again, her eyes shining. “You know, the must-see places for tourists?”

“Well...I have only lived in Trost for a year but…” Eren thought over his mental map of the town. “I guess the town’s center is pretty good, if you haven’t been there already. And then there’s the clock tower, I guess.”

“Thank you, Eren. We’ll definitely check those out.”  She said. “ Oh, but this town is pretty well preserved, though, isn’t it? We got lost in the streets four times already today. It’s like a maze. How do you find your way around?”

“Yeah, it’s eh...pretty cramped. You just have to learn it, I guess.” Eren said. “You should get a map. I think you can find them a little further down the street to the left.” Eren pointed at the door behind Petra. “If not, then you should probably stick to the large main streets so you don’t get lost too easily.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you so much, Eren.” Petra beamed at him. “I might come back if I don’t get lost. Maybe I need to ask you to be our tour guide.” She laughed and waved. “See you.”

“Bye!” Eren waved after her. “Have a nice day! Hope your friends like the cake!”

Petra turned and grinned back at him as she left the café, and the little bell above the door chimed.

Eren’s shoulders felt lighter after Petra’s visit, as though conversing with her had lifted a heavy veil from him. Eren took a deep breath. Petra seemed fun. He wondered if she would come back to the café again before she left town. It had felt nice having a lighthearted conversation with a customer for once. She had even asked for his name, a rarity. Most people were only interested in getting their orders as swiftly as possible using minimal communication.

For The next hour, Eren felt a lot more at peace, and almost did a little jump of joy when it was finally time for his break, and he could go walk Armin home from school.

……..

“I have cake!” Petra sang upon entering the first-floor flat.

The rest of the squad was gathered around the coffee table in the living room, and all heads turned towards Petra, who held up the box of cakes with a smile.

“Oh, what kind of cake is that?” Erd smiled.

“Carrot cake.” Petra said. “Homemade too. To quote the café boy - the best in Trost – no, in all of Rose.”

Petra sat the box down on the table and took a seat opposite Erd. Her eyes met Levi’s at the end of the table, and he nodded at her.

“Now that we’re all here.” Levi addressed his squad. “Let’s start. Petra, what did you learn?”

“The café boy was really helpful.” Petra reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. “He directed me to a shop where I could find maps of the town.” She held up the paper and showed them the entire map. “I have more in my coat.”

“This is great.” Erd said. “The killer knows this town. And now we will too.”

Gunter gave her a thumps up.

 Auruo shot her a quick smile before his face turned serious again.

“Good.” Levi said. “Very good. Anything else?”

“The café boy told me about the biggest tourist attractions – not that Trost gets many tourists – but that’s about it.” Petra said. “I did ask how one can find their way around town without getting lost, but that’s when he told me about the maps. Sorry, that’s all I got from him for now. I can talk to him again. Probably persuade him to guide me to certain locations, if I need to.”

“We don’t have a need for that right now.” Levi said. “But it’s useful to have the option anyway. Good work. Now on to the next matter. Erd, Gunter?”

“This morning, when we checked the river,” Erd said, “the water level had sunk back down again.  I estimate just about seven or eight inches.”

“And the blood stains were gone.” Gunter finished. “Just like you predicted, sir.”

Levi nodded once. “The killer knows the water cycle - when the water level rises and when it sinks. It rose two days ago, just enough to cover the rocks, and wash away the evidence.” Levi leaned backwards against his chair, put his elbows on the armrests, and linked his hands in front of his mouth.

“I admit this bastard’s turning out to be somewhat cleverer than I expected.” Auruo grunted with his arms crossed. “Still doesn’t tell us where he buries the damn bodies, though. But I still say it’s near the riverbank.”

“But so close to a source of water would increase the chances of animals digging them up, wouldn’t it?” Petra said.

Auruo sunk a little in his seat, and his expression softened a little. “Hmm. Maybe.”

“Where the bodies are buried is irrelevant.”

All heads turned to Levi with rapt attention.

Levi leaned forward in his seat. “We will tackle that issue later.” He looked around at the surprised faces of his squad for a moment, before he continued.  “Right now, we need to keep the riverbank under surveillance...at night.”

“I assume you mean that location?” Erd asked.

“Of course.” Levi said. “That’s where the killer will show up. He kills at night, so that’s when we need to be there.”

“We’re going to catch him at the river?” Gunter blurted. “An ambush? Shouldn’t we follow him instead?”

“Trying  to follow him from the river is very risky.” Erd said.  “He has more experience with the forest at night than we do. Chances are we’ll either lose him or he’ll spot us.”

“Exactly. “ Levi said. “In this situation, the best is to be there when he shows up.” His eyes narrowed. “And catch him in the act.”

* * *

Eren drummed the heels of his shoes against the ground as he watched small groups of students emerge from the flaky wooden school building. Two minutes of shifting his weight from foot to foot, Eren almost bounced when he saw Armin walk through the doors.

Armin trotted across the yard and greeted Eren with a smile.

Eren barely managed to restrain himself from ruffling Armin’s hair. He grabbed a couple of book from Armin’s hands as usual, when something caught his attention.

A short girl with familiar blonde hair exited the school.

Eren’s mind raced into overdrive, played out memories of a girl walking into a dark alley outside the nightclub...Could it be? ...It was her!

Her blue eyes bright like the summer sky – she could have been Armin’s sister! The daylight reflected in the girl’s hair and lit it up like sunshine, and Eren noticed the ponytail – but didn’t the girl from the alley have shoulder-length hair? It wasn’t her after all? But then why did everything else down to her height fit so well?

Beside her walked another girl several heads taller, with dark hair set into a loose ponytail, freckled cheeks, and a nonchalant expression.

The two girls contrasted like a fluffy bunny and a bobcat.

The blonde girl turned her head in Eren’s direction.

Eren’s heart jumped a beat, and he averted his gaze. He grabbed Armin’s hand, pulled him into a walk, and watched the girl from the corners of his eyes.

She didn’t seem to take any notice of Eren, and turned back to her tall companion.

Eren doubted the girl would have recognised him, but he wasn’t going to take the chance.

“Are you okay?” Armin’s voice drifted into his ear. “Eren?”

At his name, Eren snapped out of his temporary trance. “Eh – yeah – I’m fine. Um, who is that girl over there?” He motioned with his head, not wanting to outright point. “The blonde one?”

Armin turned round to look at the two girls making their way down a narrow road. “Oh, that’s Christa. And that’s Ymir next to her. They’re in my class.” Armin turned back to Eren with an inquisitive look. “Why’d you ask?”

“Just...eh” Eren adjusted his grip on the books. “I thought she looked a lot like you, that’s all – I mean you could be siblings or something. Don’t laugh okay."

“Oh.” The corners of Armin’s mouth twitched, and he hastily bit his lower lip.

“I told you not to laugh!”

“I’m – I’m not.” Armin strained back a giggle. “You’re not the first person to say that, actually. Half my class mentioned it the first week I was here. I can see why, too. It’s not a stupid thing to think. It’s just an observation.”

A person from Armin’s class who could potentially recognise Eren from the night of a job was a prospect he hadn’t considered before. He would have to be careful around the school’s area from now on.   “So erm... ”Eren scrambled for a distraction. “How come I’ve never seen Jean anywhere around when school’s over? Is he held back or something?”

“Oh, um....no, he isn’t being held back after class.” Armin paused and licked his lips. “It’s the opposite, I guess. He leaves school thirty minutes before I do.”

“Wait what?” Eren did a double take. “Why does he get to leave early?”

“He doesn’t. Classes end at that time. It’s just…” Armin looked down at his feet for moment. “I...usually spend some minutes in the school library after class.”

“Oh so...Wait - hang on!” Eren spluttered. “Do you mean you could have walked home half an hour earlier every day?”

Armin chewed his lip. “...I guess I could have.”

“Then- then why didn’t you?” Eren exclaimed. “Even before we agreed to walk everywhere together, I know you wanted to go alone, and you could have, but you didn’t and-and...”

Armin looked bashful.

Eren stared at him in astonishment for a full minute before he slapped his own forehead. “I’m an idiot, aren’t ?” He threw an arm around Armin’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck. “Shit! Armin, I’m so sorry! I just - You waited for me. Every day!  I know you think I’m kind of overprotective and stuff and - and you still waited. You could have gone home before I even got here. But you still waited for me and - shit - I really am an idiot.”

Armin patted Eren’s head affectionately. “It’s fine, Eren. Don’t be upset.”

“You want me to come meet you on time from now on?” Eren looked up. “I can still make it from when my break starts. Then we can get more time together before I have to work again.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine waiting,” Armin’s eyes met Eren’s, and his mouth tugged into a smile.  “But I guess...we could try it a couple of times if you want.”

Eren grinned and nodded with enough vigor to make his fringe bob.

The two of them walked the rest of the way home holding hands.

Although Eren welcomed the contact, it did not distract him from scanning the surroundings like a hawk. Armin’s presence seemed to amplify Eren’s surveillance habits and strengthen his ingrained need for caution.

After Armin had his quick shower, Eren watched him clean and redress his wound, and was satisfied to see the layer of scab had thinned into a tiny line already.

Eren made a couple of sandwiches as usual and they sat close together on the sofa and ate in silence. When finished, Eren expected Armin to start on homework.

To his pleasant surprise, Armin leaned his head on Eren’s shoulder and mumbled. “So tired.”

Worry clutched at Eren’s stomach. He brushed Armin’s fringe aside and put his hand against his forehead. “Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you? You don’t feel too hot. Didn’t you get enough sleep?”

“M’fine.” Armin brushed Eren’s hand from his forehead and took hold of it “And you’re rambling. That’s supposed to be my thing, isn’t it?” He bit his lip, lowered his head so his fringe fell across his eyes, and nuzzled up against Eren.

The worry waves in Eren’s belly stilled, and pleasant warmth bubbled up inside him. He reached out with his free hand and tangled his fingers in Armin’s hair and played with it. The golden strands felt like fine silk. Had Armin’s hair always been this soft?

Armin sighed in contentment.

Eren imagine Armin closed his eyes. A pleasant tickling sensation fluttered in his chest, and he smiled. Everything seemed right with the world as he stroked Armin’s hair, felt his body heat shine into his own. It made him think a meadow on a peaceful summer day. To sit in the grass and watch the soft clouds drift across the clear sky, blue like the sea Eren remembered from the picture books Armin used to show him. “Remember when we talked about seeing the ocean?”

Armin nodded against Eren’s shoulder. “Seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah...” Eren sighed. “But you know, I haven’t given up. Not really. I’ll take you to see it one day. It’s just another country away anyway. It’s not that far.”

“Nobody can really cross the border freely anymore. Not since that day.” Armin said. “At school we read about the wall put up around Maria. It’s guarded by the military, so nobody can get in or out of the country. Because of the rebels.”

“I’ll find a way.” Eren said. “We’ll find a way. Someday. Rebels, monsters, giant one hundred feet tall. I’ll face them all. I don’t care. I’ll make it happen.”

Armin looked up at him with wide eyes.

Eren leaned his forehead against Armin’s, squeezed his hand and stared into his eyes. “I promise. We’ll see the ocean together.”

Armin gasped. “E-Eren!”

“And we’ll travel other places too.” Eren grinned. “You, me, and Mikasa. We’ll leave this country and see the world! U - unless you want to stay, but...I really want to see new places with you. You still want to see the ocean, right?”

Armin ‘s eyes glistened, appeared sapphire in the dim light, before he closed them and sighed. His lips twitched into a smile. “Yeah... Yeah, I do. And I want to see other places with you too.”

Eren’s heart thumped harder as a warm fuzziness blossomed inside him. The determination to accomplish his dream – Armin’s dream, shone within him like a sun. He enjoyed the feeling of Armin’s weight against him for a moment, before he leaned back against the cushions and guided Armin with him.

Armin’s head fell on Eren’s shoulder again, and soft puffs of air tickled Eren’s neck. Armin’s breathing became slower and deeper, until his body went limp against Eren’s, and his hand felt slack in Eren’s hold.

A sense of peace, like a much needed reprieve from reality, descended on Eren, wrapping around him like a blanket. He was tempted to let his thoughts drift, until he too fell asleep. He couldn’t, though. Eren gazed at the tiny living room clock by the window, ticking away his time left with Armin. Eren closed his eyes and focused on the comforting heat from Armin’s sleeping body, listened to the breaths like a mantra, and stroked slow circles across the top of Armin’s hand. If only Eren could pause time...

Eren breezed through work with a new found fire of determination, although he still didn’t know how to get money to buy a new knife yet, the hour with Armin seemed to have set his confidence ablaze. He would find a way somehow, like everything else he had accomplished so far. It didn’t matter how, as long as he could keep his eyes on the goal.

Walking home, the murky alleys seemed to have no affect on Eren’s mood, although he couldn’t quite keep his eyes from darting between the shadows. He glanced up at the clock tower in the distance, and his good spirits evaporated. Five minutes before Armin got off work! It would take at least ten getting to the street he was supposed to meet Mikasa at.

The horror of being late, the image of Armin waiting alone under the streetlamps, bit into Eren’s gut. Without a second thought, he launched into a jog. He conjured up his mental map and calculated the quickest route he could find. To get to the bookshop on time, he needed to run through several small alleys, and none of them provided sufficient lighting.

His heart beat a little faster as he plunged into a cramped alley submerged in thick fog-like darkness. A deranged criminal could be waiting around a corner and Eren wouldn’t be able to know before a knife stuck halfway into his gut. The thought reminded him of the reason he and Mikasa always picked Armin up from work in the first place – because of the dangers lurking in these alleys. Eren slowed down his pace and kept a hand hovering over his hidden knife.

He rounded a corner, where a faint light flickered from a lone lantern overhead. He nearly drew his knife as a grouching voice barked into his ear.

A raspy voice cried out. “You! Boy!”

A large hand flew out of the shadows and grabbed the front of his jacket in a shaking grip. A leathery-faced man with a scraggly brown beard peered up at him with bloodshot eyes.

Eren reeled back.

“The Hunter!” The man wheezed into Eren’s face. “He comes at night!”

The stench of alcohol mixed with something rotten invaded Eren’s nose and he gagged. He tried to step back, but the man’s grip held tight.

“The Hunter will come an’ take ya’ away. Never see you again!” The man seemed to lean closer with each flicker of the lantern. Eren could see the streaks of grey in his hairline, and the yellowish glow in his eyes.

Eren’s hands twitched, he wanted to push the man off but feared he might turn violent.

“He’s a devil.” The man stared into Eren’s eyes. “Beware, boy. Beware The Hunter!”

“Er..I...” Eren swallowed. “I – I will.”

The man scrutinized him for a moment, as though seeking for something unseen. When Eren wondered if he should risk shoving the man aside and run for it, the hand let go of his jacket. The man’s gaze turned vacant, he sunk into the shadow from which he had come, sat down and hid his face behind his arms.

Eren didn’t spare him another glance before he bolted out of the alley and into a well lit street. Sweet relief spread through him as he looked at the shop windows and ordinary people passing by. He scurried down the street, and his thoughts raced.

The hunter – that’s what the shadow-dweller had ranted about. The same name the druggies had mentioned with fearful whispers, and the reason the rough district almost lay empty at night. He probably needed to find out more soon, although he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to.

_The Hunter will come an’ take ya’ away..._

The words struck something within Eren, and an idea formed in his mind. So simple, and obvious, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it earlier. _I can take the money. For the new knife! I can just take it!_

His targets had money – some of them at least. He sat in possession of a mound of resources and he never even realised. He had thrown away everything left by the previous targets, and he wanted to slap himself for it now. He needed a new one – another target. Tomorrow.

The next morning, after he dropped Armin off at school, Eren went to check on the graveyard, but he saw no fresh mounds of dirt.

As he walked to work, he contemplated his options. With no easily accessible graves, he would need to either burn the remains, or burry them somewhere in the forest, the latter containing a considerable risk of animals digging it up and being found by hikers. However, burning posed the danger of smoke from the fire being spotted, and Eren also had to keep a close eye the whole time in case the fire should spread. He didn’t even have anything to burn the corpse in, like a metallic barrel, which would reduce the risk of accidentally starting a wildfire.

Should he find something and take it into the forest? Even if he found something like barrel or rubbish bin, when and how would he get it to the river unseen? He would need to go at night, but it would take him too long – he wouldn’t have time to find a target the same night.

He couldn’t wait that long. He wanted money - needed money. He couldn’t let Armin go unarmed much longer. A new knife was the only solution.

He had to bury the remains. He could find a quiet spot along the river, probably. He knew the forest well. He would find a suitable place – he had to.

After he finished work, Eren set out to the forest to change into his other attire. He didn’t have a definite target scoped out, but he didn’t want to wait any more days. Armin wasn’t working tonight, so Eren and Mikasa didn’t have to pick him up from the bookshop, which meant Eren could stay out longer.

Thick clouds obscured the moon, and made the night darker than Eren would have liked. As he trudged through the forest, the visibility was terrible without the moonlight. He stumbled over more roots, and his feet crunched more dead vegetation than usual. By the time Eren donned his black outfit, covered by his dark green coat, he wondered if going through with this tonight was a horrible miscalculation. He could be at home, sharing dinner with Armin and Mikasa. Play card games and go to bed together. Instead he was walking through shadows, on a mission which would strain him physically and mentally.

But it’s for them, Eren reminded himself, sneaking down an alleyway.  So they would be safe. So Armin will be safe.

Eren recognised a ragged assaulter and mugger skulking in the alley outside an old bar, and decided to go for him. The man had been half drunk and dealing with him had been swift and simple. In the inner pocket of the man’s jacket, Eren had been happy to find a thick vallet. He had put the wallet safely away before he packed up.

The quiet darkness of the forest usually draped Eren in comfort, but tonight the blackness seemed to close in on him like a malevolent entity. Eren panted under the weight of the full bag on his back. In a moment of regret, he wanted to throw the bag down, abandon his mission and go back home. Eren gritted his teeth and kept going.

As he headed for the riverbank, a sensation of danger nagged in his gut, and a voice in his head screamed to turn around.

The sound of the water greeted him, not like a friend, but warning bells. Eren let gravity pull the bag from his back, and it hit the ground next to the rocks with a thud.

His shoulders ached, and his lower back screamed. He took several deep breaths. He didn’t think he had ever carried so much weight before, and he would feel the full extent of it the next days to come. He grunted and turned to go find his axe. He hoped his shoulders would hold on long enough for him to finish the job.

A branch snapped from somewhere close by. The sound reverberated in Eren’s head like a gunshot.

A jolt of energy surged up his spine. He froze on the spot and peered around, but the impenetrable darkness revealed nothing. An animal? But weren’t animals quieter?

His heartbeats pounded in his ears, and he took several deep breaths to no avail. He stepped towards the bush, prepared to bend down and reach for the axe, but stopped. His body refused to move further, as though forcing him to pay attention to the warning signs.  Something was wrong. He took a couple of steps back and looked around.

The river sounded louder, the wind whispered between the trees and rustled dead leaves.

The insides of Eren’s chest quivered, chills ran up and down his spine – the sensation of being watched. Eren swallowed down a bout of trembles.  He knew something – someone was hiding in the black mass of vegetation around him. What should he do? Continue on with the job? He looked back at the bulging bag.

_I can’t just leave it..._

A crow tooted on the other side of the river. A drop of water landed on Eren’s cheek. The bushes rustled ominously on all sides in the nearly windless night, and leaves crunched under the unmistakable thumps of footsteps.

Figures emerged from the forest on opposite sides, and zoomed towards him. Torchlight burst to life and beamed in Eren’s direction.

Eren’s heart jumped to his throat, and he lurched backwards, whirling around. He pulled his hood up to shield his face from the light, and bolted towards the forest.

A tall figure blocked his usual path away from the bank.

Eren twisted round, leaped through a bush and squeezed himself between two trees. The bark scraped against his face like tiny claws. With a hiss, he burst free and into a sprint.

“Shit!” A voice shouted behind him. “He’s running this way!”

Footsteps pounded after him, all stealth forgotten, snapping and rustling bushes.

Icy hands clutched the insides of his stomach, and Eren forced his legs to move faster. He tripped on roots, leapt over rocks and through bushes. Branches snapped his face like whips, and he shut his eyes to protect them. How many people were chasing him?

He thought he heard at least two or three making a ruckus. Eren opened his eyes and saw the beams of light from the torches hit the trees to his left, and honing around like trackers.

Eren’s legs burned, and he gasped for breath. He banged his right knee on a rock, white pain exploded in his kneecap, and he bit back a howl. He willed his leg to move properly despite the numbing feeling spreading down his calf. He couldn’t slow down, no matter what! He had to lose his pursuers. _I can’t get caught here!_

“I hear him! This way!”                                                                                               

There he is!”

Eren knew the torchlight fell upon his back.

The men behind him thundered like horses through the vegetation.

Eren felt his feet hit the moss, soft like a cushion, and muffling his footsteps. He held his hands out in front of him, and detected obstacles with his palms before he crashed into them. He weaved between the trees, pushing off them to boost his speed.

The light beams bounced off trees beside him, unable to follow his sharp turns. The heavens opened up and blasted heavy raindrops down like a waterfall.

Eren couldn’t see more than two feet in front of him as he leaped, scrambled and jumped up the hills, the rain pounding on his coat.

He didn’t know how long he ran, and he didn't dare slow down, even as the forest floor turned muddy, and his footing slipped. Not until the flashes of light were gone, and the only sounds were the rush and splashes of the rain, did Eren finally halt.

His lungs seared, and his throat felt raw. He coughed up slime and spit it out, fearing he might vomit. He gasped in mouthfuls of air, praying the pursuers lost their trail. He couldn’t stay here, out in the open. He needed cover. Panting with a horrible ache in his chest, he rose back up and trudged along on soggy ground.

 He spotted a large oak, staggered up to it and leaned against the trunk. The wide branches provided cover for the rain, and cast Eren in impenetrable shadow.

The ice hold of despair crushed his gut, the sickening realisation of what had just taken place sapped his legs from the little strength left. Eren buried his feet into the damp dirt between the oak’s large roots, and tried to grab hold of the bark behind him to prevent from sliding down. His breath came in hacks, and he desperately tried to even it out. Someone had chased him – had seen him at the riverbank – waited for him?

 _The bag! The body! It’s still at the river!_ Eren chocked back a cursing yell; bit his lip until he tasted copper. He mustn't panic! He forced several deep breaths. Warm blood dribbled from his split lip and down his chin, and he wiped it away with the back of his glove. Think – he had to think! Did the people who chased him have the bag now? Eren didn’t want to go back and check – couldn’t go back.

 _Okay, calm down. Think about this. Let’s say those people found the bag, and then...damn it!_ He bit his lip again, sliding a little further down the tree trunk. He steadied his footing and wiped more blood away from his mouth with a shaking hand.

_Okay, okay! So...even if they examine the bag...they won’t find anything! Nothing can be traced to me! Or anyone else! Right? It’s not like those people would know about me either – know who I am. I’m safe! Armin and Mikasa – they’re safe! They’ll find nothing. But..._

This meant he had lost the bag for good. Whoever those people were – Eren couldn’t take the bag back from them. They would know how he carried the targets, and probably what he did with the bodies at the riverbank. _But nothing else!_

If it came down to it, Eren could always find another bag. He had found the one he lost on a trailer filled with rubbish on a country road. He had picked the bag up, seeing it looked in good condition – it’d be a waste to throw it away. Surely Eren could find another one somewhere? Of course he could. That only left...

The axe and spade!

_I…I can find new ones._

Eren had found the axe on a rubbish pile by a nearby farm, and the spade next to a dumpster in an alley. He could replace everything in time. The most important was his next move.

The rain beat down like thunder as Eren stepped out from his cover and looked around in an attempt to deduce exactly where he was. Unable to recognise his surroundings through the dark haze of rain, Eren walked in the direction away from the river.  When his legs felt chilled to the bone, he finally came upon a familiar hiking trail, and managed to find his way back to his hidden clothes.

As Eren undressed, the icy rain bit into his body and made him tremble like a newborn foal. His legs were numb and nearly gave out as he put on his trousers. He threw the rest of his clothes on and shakily stuffed the rucksacks between the rocks again. He hesitated – he didn’t want to leave his job clothes behind, but he couldn’t take them back with him either. He couldn’t think of a way to hide them from Armin and Mikasa.

_Tomorrow. I’ll go get them tomorrow. And move them somewhere else. Yeah, that’ll work._

He began the cold journey home with his stomach churning.


	4. Chapter 4

Erd stood on the riverbank, trying to shield his screeching radio from the rain inside his coat. He bent over to talk into it where he held it inside his open coat. “Auruo! Gunter! Do you hear me? Over.”

Static miserably screeched from the radio.

Erd bit back a frustrated curse, not being the man to easily give in to frustration.

The rain lessened a little, as though showing the humans a tiny sliver of mercy in the night.

“Damnit to hell!” Auruo’s voice came from the dark forest. A second later, a mud-splattered Auruo trudged into sight. Angry scratches covered his scowling face. “Fucking trees everywhere. It’s like they were out to get me, helping that little shit.”

Erd sighed. “Have you seen Gunter? Is he close by?”

Auruo leaned against a tree and folded his arms. “No. It’s too damn dark to see anything. I heard him a little while ago, though. He’ll probably be here soon.”

Erd held out his hand to Auruo. “Is your radio still working? I think mine’s broken.”

Auruo, looking put out, fished his radio from his jacket-pocket and held it out to Erd, but hesitated to hand it over. “You’re…calling the captain?”

“I’m calling Gunter. And then I’m calling the captain.” Erd stretched out his palm, signaling for Auruo to hand him the radio without any fuss.

Auruo’s face tensed, but he handed Erd the radio and locked eyes with him. “I did my best out there. I would have got him if it wasn’t for this storm. And it’s the middle of the night. I couldn’t see my own feet.”

Erd broke their eye contact, and then nodded. “Yes, yes. Don’t worry. There won’t be any bad words to the captain.”

Aururo spluttered and hastily stepped forward.“I…I wasn’t trying to—I didn’t mean--”

Erd held up a hand to pause Auruo. “Yes, Yes. Please, hold on, I need to see if this is working.” He fiddled with the radio, held it up to his mouth, and then pulled his hood as far over his face as it could go. “Gunter, come in. Over.”

“I’m here.” Gunter’s voice sounded from somewhere to the left.

Erd and Auruo turned simultaneously.

Gunter came stumping into view with mud stains up to his hips. “I lost all sight of him. I’m sorry.” He stopped to lean forward, put his hands on his thighs, and breathed heavily. “I think I lost weight, too. Any word from the captain?”

“He’s on his way. I called right after you two started the pursuit. I’m contacting him now.” Erd held the radio to his mouth again and pressed the buttons. “Captain, can you hear me? Over.”

“Yes, I can.” Levi emerged from the forest, lit torch in hand.

Erd, Auruo, and Gunter turned their bodies in Levi’s direction.

Levi walked calmly over to the group. The hood of his raincoat was up and cast his eyes in shadow. “Let’s get to work.”

Auruo’s jaw tensed. He straightened his back and stood stiffly. “Sir, I—”

Levi turned sharply towards Auruo. “Whatever explanation you have for why our guy got away can wait.” He pointed his torch towards the bank, and the light fell upon the bag containing the dead body. He walked over to the bag and halted a foot’s distance from it. Levi pointed his torch all over the soaked bag, illuminating the grotesque sight inside it. “Breaking the bones to make it fit. Decent trick.”

Gunter frowned. “Surprised that even worked. The bag looks like it’s about to burst.”

Erd came up next to Levi, then leaned over the bag and peered closely. “But the plastic wrap keeps the blood from soaking the bag.” He pointed at the plastic padding visible next to the body. “Seems like the killer lined the entire inside of the bag with it. He is quite clever.”

Levi made a small humming sound. “It’s confirmed. This is where he cuts his kill. But…” Levi pulled his hood back a little, and his hard grey eyes came into sight. “This is not where he disposes of them.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Gunter shone his own torch around the bank. “Where does he put them?”

“I’ll explain soon.” Levi turned to Erd. “Search the body for a wallet.”

“Yes, sir.” Erd nodded, and produced a pair of black plastic gloves from his pocket. “Everyone, please shine your torches on the body.”

Erd padded the body carefully, and then searched the body’s clothes. He reaching inside pockets and turned them out. “There’s no wallet, and no ID. Just this.” He pulled a small knife out of one of the trouser pockets. He held the knife up in the light.

A simple pocket knife glinted in the torch light.

Levi spared the knife an unconcerned look. “Bland. Cheap. Tells us this guy was either broke or a skinflint. ”

“No wallet, though.” Gunter reminded them. “Does that mean he was poor, or left it somewhere?”

Auruo grunted and turned his head away.  “Well, he was drunk, wasn’t he? Probably forgot it at the bar.”

Gunter’s eyes widened at Auruo. “How do you know he was drunk?”

The corners of Auruo’s mouth twitched. He looked at Gunter, raised his chin and crossed his arms. “Simple. I noticed –”

“The smell of alcohol.” Erd sniffed the air once. “Probably whiskey.”

Auruo’s shoulders slumped. “Ah, yes, that. Wait! How can you tell it was whiskey?”

Erd shrugged. “I said it’s ‘probably’ whiskey. He looks like whiskey guy, but not the rich kind of whiskey guy. But never mind that.” Erd looked at Levi. “What do you suppose we should do with the body, sir?”

“I leave that decision to you. Bury it, burn it. Doesn’t matter as long as no one else can find it.”

Gunter looked surprised. “Wait, we don’t need to find out who he was?”

Levi waved him off, unconcerned. “Waste of time. We’re not the goddamn police. We know he was unimportant streetscum. Otherwise he wouldn’t be in that stinking bag. He was a mugger, probably had a violent streak. That’s why he was killed. Our little vigilante only goes after the lowest of the low. Remember that.”

Gunter nodded in sober understanding. “So, what’s out next move, sir?”

 Levi looked at the dark river, flowing like black ink. “This guy doesn’t throw the bodies in the river. That spade he kept hidden wasn’t for show. Our guy buries the body parts. We need to find out where.” Levi faced the group, his gaze firm.

Erd nodded.

Gunter lowered his brows somberly.

Auruo stood up taller, his expression serious.

“Gunter. You go back to HQ and get some sleep. We’ll call you and Petra here in the morning. We search the woods.  We split up. Erd, start close the bank, and work your way from here. Auruo, with me, we’ll search further in and work our way towards the river. Remember, the bodies are in pieces. Even though you can barely find your own ass in this muddy hell, look for smaller mounds of dirt. Look between and under rocks. Any place you feel you could hide a body part. Any part of the ground that looks like it’s been disturbed.”

The group nodded resolutely. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

 

Eren stepped into the hall with trepidation. He removed his shoes and muddy water dripped onto the floor. His clothes clung to him, cold and wet against his skin, and itching horribly. He hung his dripping jacket on a hook, and shuffled towards the bathroom.

“Eren!” Mikasa’s voice called to him.

His heart jumped. He froze on the spot and looked into the living room. Why was Mikasa up? She should me sleeping by now! Eren grabbed the bathroom doorknob, wrenched the door open and silently hopped inside. He saw Mikasa’s mouth open. He quickly closed the door and locked it.

He let out a hissing breath and leaned against the sink. His own reflection stared back at him from the mirror; damp bark-brown hair and dark circles around his glazed green eyes. In the dim light from the ceiling lamp, his skin appeared a sickly pale yellow. He grit his teeth, looked away from the mirror, and stripped with stiff movements.

His knee still held a dull throb from banging it on a rock, and his whole back ached. He stiffly stepped into the cramped shower space. He turned the knob and cold water hit streamed down and bit into his skin like icy teeth. Eren shrank back as far as he could with a hiss and waited until the water heated up before he stepped under the showerhead again.

Even though the water was set to a comfortable temperature, it still burned into Eren’s sore body. He remembered the dark and chilly showers in the orphanage, where the water never heated up no matter how long he waited.

A sense of loneliness ached in his chest, and for a moment Eren missed another person beside him in the small space. A string of memories blended together and played before him, the times when he shared a single showerhead with Armin and the two of them took turns jumping under the icy spray.

Eren had built up resistance to the cold during his first year at the orphanage, but less than half a minute under the water Armin’s skin turned a light shade of blue, his teeth clicked as he shook so badly he could hardly stand.

Eren used the small piece of old, odorless soap and washed Armin’s upper body, from chest to back, before he coated his hands in suds and moved on to Armin’s hair. Eren washed his own body even quicker.

The first time Eren helped Armin wash, the other boys in the showers looked on with curious and surprised glances. Eren hadn’t noticed until he followed Armin’s uncomfortable gaze. He sent a dark glare in the boys’ direction, daring them to say anything while silently telling them to mind their own business. Every time someone looked at them, or specifically, looked at Armin, Eren would send them a dark look reminiscent of a guard dog, a silent threat telling them they had better turn away at once. Nobody was allowed to look at Armin but Eren.

Even years later, when Armin became more accustomed to the cold, their little shower routine was already a casual part of their lives. There were times Eren and Armin used separate shower heads, when they wanted to get done in under a minute and hardly even used the soap.

Whenever they wanted to clean up more thoroughly, Eren washed Armin’s hair and upper body, and they switched so Armin could wash Eren. They never talked while they showered except to ask one of them to pass the soap over to the other. Nor did they ever talk about it. It was simply an unspoken part of their lives.

A year after leaving the orphanage, although he supposed he should find the privacy comforting, Eren still felt strange showering alone after having Armin next to him for the past five years. Eren wondered if Armin felt the same way. _Armin...What will happen to him if I get found out? Armin and Mikasa..._

Eren’s chest tightened and he clenched his teeth. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, feeling the soft water run down his face. The events from earlier at the river surged through him like a bullet. He failed. The bag and his equipment lay in the hands of unknown people, who were undoubtedly investigating now. How could they not when the bag contained a body? What if they handed the body over to the police? What if they _were_ the police?

The little strength left in Eren’s legs sapped out and he trembled for a moment. He balled his hands into fists and pounded one on the tile wall. _Damn it!_ No matter who those people were, Eren knew for certain he could not return to the riverbank. He bit down a shout of frustration. He breathed in deeply. He couldn’t sink now. Not here. How long did he have left before the water running down his body turned cold?

With gritted teeth, Eren finished his shower.

Mikasa was not in the living room waiting for him like he had expected. He knew it meant she had decided to let Eren sleep before confronting him. Feeling a little thankful, but still rather shaky, Eren trod over to the bedroom and went inside. He held his breath, retrieved a tee-shirt from a drawer, and almost put his head through a sleeve when he pulled it on.

He laid down hearing the soft breathing of his friends. His thoughts raced back to the riverbank and the darkness of the forest yet again. _I have to get my clothes tomorrow, don’t I? I can’t risk those people finding them too! I can’t! But first, please, please,  just let me get some sleep..._

The next morning greeted Eren like a brutal kick to the stomach.  Every muscle, bone, and organ in his body groaned and protested.  He vent about his morning routine with the swiftness of an elderly, and desperately fought to hide it from Mikasa’s prying eyes.

During breakfast, Eren was pleasantly surprised Mikasa didn’t mention anything about how late he came home last night, but suspicion also nagged in his gut.  A quiet Mikasa was scarier than a talkative Mikasa.

Armin kept giving Eren brief worried glances, but didn’t mention anything either.

Eren knew he looked like he hadn’t slept for three nights. He’d taken one look in the mirror earlier and hurriedly averted his gaze. All the makeup in the world would have a challenge covering the purplish bags under his eyes. He didn’t bother trying to fake cheer. He would only seem creepier and arouse more suspicion. He ate his meager breakfast in silence and hoped it wouldn’t make a surprise appearance again later.

Eren was so tense he barely managed to give Armin a smile when he left for school.

After a quiet goodbye, Mikasa also left for work.

Eren waited for fifteen minutes, giving Mikasa enough time for a head start. Then he headed out on his mission.

The puddle-water grey sky and heavy air pressed down on Eren, as though trying to push him into the earth.

His legs moved like sticks, but they carried him steadily all the way to the country road. He looked into the forest in front of him.

The oaks towered, imposing like guards, and cast the space between them in shadow. The forest had never looked more uninviting, it might as well have been growling at him to keep out.

Eren couldn’t see anyone around, nor hear any suspicious sounds, just the quiet howling of the cold wind. His ears felt numb, and he wished he’d worn a hat. A chill went through his body. He really didn’t want to enter the forest, but he had to get his clothes from the hiding place. Leaving the clothes there now with people investigating the forest was too risky. He took a deep breath which sent a cold shock into his lungs, then walked into the shadow between the trees.

The forest didn’t welcome him with open arms like it used to, as though it had changed its allegiance. Eren’s body protested every step, eerily reminiscent of last night when his instincts had warned him of danger. A nagging sensation that something was deeply wrong churned in his stomach. But he couldn’t stop. He had to get his clothes and hide them—or better yet, burn them so no one could ever find them.

He quickened his pace, but his aching body didn’t want to waste needless energy running when there was nothing to run from. He neared the clothes’ hiding place, and his intuition flared up. He paused. His usual route near the creek felt wrong. His gut wanted him to take another, more hidden route.

His throat constricted. He remembered how his institution had warned him of dangers last night. This time, he would listen. He changed course and started climbing a somewhat steep little hill.

He kept his footsteps quiet. Soon he would be on top of the hill overlooking the rocks he had hidden his clothes between. He could see the edge of the hill where a small path weaving between naked blueberry bushes led down to the rocks, and the urge to stop overcame him. A wriggling foreboding sensation spread through his stomach.

He heard voices in front of him.

His entire body stiffened. Someone was there by the rocks. Had they found his clothes? No, surely they couldn’t have. His clothes were too well hidden. No one would find them unless…unless they searched for them. The people from last night…!

His heart beat faster and louder in his ears. He forced himself to slow down his breath, and like a stalking animal he crept closer to the edge of the hill. He crouched down and crawled behind a reasonably thick oak. He willed his breath to stay slow and steady, and peeked round the oak down at the rocks.

Three men clad in deep-greed raincoats stood there.

The tallest of them, a blond man with his hair pulled back into a small ponytail, was holding up one of Eren’s rucksacks.

A man with khaki hair and an arrogant expression pulled out the pine-green coat from the rucksack and laid it neatly down on a rock. He pulled out Eren’s black shirt and held up with two gloved fingers, then grimaced. “This stinks. When did this guy last shower?”

The third man and shortest man cast Eren’s shirt a disdainful look. His cobalt bangs obscured his eyes from view. “Sweat, and some old blood. Disgusting.” His voice was low and deep, and sounded bored.

Shivers spilled down Eren’s back. He recognised that short man. He had been searching about in the alley Eren had taken out a target in only a couple of days ago. That meant… _These are the same people!_ It must have been them at the riverbank, the ones who chased him last night. And now they had found Eren’s clothes.

Eren’s heart beat so loud he was afraid the men would hear it. He struggled to keep his breathing slow and quiet. He wanted to run away and back home, but he also felt the overwhelming need to stay and keep listening. He had to find out how much they knew, and if they could link his clothes back to him somehow.

The tall and blond man set the rucksack down by his feet, then pulled out Eren’s black pants. “What do you reckon, sir?”

The short man looked at the pants and the shirt for a few seconds, and then huffed. “Size says male, about five-foot-six, probably slim.”

The tallest man nodded thoughtfully.  “Although they’re men’s’ clothes, I suppose we shouldn’t assume a male was wearing them.”

“No, but it’s most likely anyway.” The short man lazily pointed at the coat on the rocks. “The coat is for preventing blood from staining the other clothes. It’s dirty, but the outside of it has been cleaned a few times.” He looked at the shirt and pants again, and then wrinkled his nose for a second. “These clothes haven’t been washed for a while. Most likely he hasn’t washed them at all for at least a month, which means he leaves them here for an extended period of time.”

Eren’s heart jumped, and froze. _What the hell?_

The blond man hummed and thoughtfully looked down at the pants he was holding. “Why would he leave them here? Wouldn’t he be worried hikers might find them?”

The arrogant looking man frowned at Eren’s shirt. “Maybe he sleeps outside.”

The short man crossed his arms. “Oh, but he _is_ worried about the clothes now. These rocks were a good hiding place. No one would find these rucksacks unless they were looking for them. But he got a good scare last night. He’ll probably want to come back here and move the clothes somewhere else.”

Cold shivers raced down Eren’s back and arms. His fingers scratched the wet earth by the tree roots. Who the hell were these people? How could they deduce this much from only his clothes?

The short man continued. “But the best question is, why did he leave the clothes here in the first place?” He dipped his chin for a moment, thinking. Then his thin lips curved at the edges. “Because he can’t take them home. Now that’s interesting.”

The arrogant man’s eyes widened and he looked lost for words.

The tall man nodded in understanding. “I think I get it. Something about his home life prevents him from taking these clothes home.”

The short man’s lips formed a tiny, satisfied smile. “Precisely. These clothes are his ‘other clothes’. He wears them when he kills. And he doesn’t want them in his house. Likely, because he doesn’t want the clothes being _found_ in his house.”

“He’s afraid if the police trace clues back to him they will search his house and find the clothes?” The tall man’s forehead wrinkled. He inspected the pants in his gloved hands. “There are no visible bloodstains. If he’d put the clothes in a laundry basket I doubt the police would think, or even bother to take them for analysis.”

The arrogant man huffed in annoyance. “He’s probably stupid and paranoid.”

The short shook his head once. “The clothes haven’t been washed, remember. Now if he could take the clothes home, wash them, or indeed put them in a laundry basket, why wouldn’t he? Something, or more likely _someone_ is keeping him from taking the clothes home. In other words, he’s hiding these clothes from someone other than the police. Someone he lives with.”

The hairs all over Eren’s body stood on end. His hands shook, and his numb fingertip dug deeper into the cold earth. These people were insane. That short man was dangerous. From just a shirt and a pair of pants he knew Eren didn’t live alone. The man simply explained it all like it was the most obvious thing in the world. How could he do that?

The short man gestured to Eren’s coat. “Check the pockets.” 

Eren shrank back, and covered his mouth with the back of his hand to stop himself from breathing too fast.

The blond man put the pants back inside the rucksack, and then went to the coat on the rock and started patting down and feeling inside the pockets. “There is a pair of gloves in here.” He pulled out Eren’s black gloves and laid them on the rock beside the coat. “And in this one…is this” From the other pocket, the man pulled out Eren’s ‘job’ knife.

The blond man put the pants back inside the rucksack, and then went to the coat on the rock and started patting down and feeling inside the pockets. “There is a pair of gloves in here.” He pulled out Eren’s black gloves and laid them on the rock beside the coat. “And in this one…is this” The man pulled out Eren’s ‘job’ knife.

The short man stepped closer, and seemed to inspect the reddish-brown stains which still clung to the blade.

Eren’s breath stopped, and his heard thundered in protest. He wanted nothing more than to run. His body might betray him if he stayed any longer. He needed to get out here now. With the care of a stag avoiding predators, he crawled backwards down the hill. He didn’t dare stand up until he was sure he was out of sight from the edge of the hill.  His heart raced. When the hill was a couple of minutes behind him, he broke into a sprint.

He sprinted all the way back the country road and slowed to a jog. His breath was ragged from stress, but his pulse was mercifully slowing down. But he couldn’t stop here. He felt as if people would come out of the woods after him. He wanted to run home and hide. His clothes – those people had his clothes!

* * *

 

Petra and Gunter walked side by side along a narrow gravel road.

Petra let out a little groan. “I can’t say I’m looking forward to face a sleep-deprived Auruo.” Then her eyes widened, and she quickly turned to Gunter. “Don’t tell him I said that, by the way.”

Gunter nodded and gave a small grunt. “Don’t worry. He won’t hear anything from me. To be honest I’m glad I got to go back and sleep. I wouldn’t have liked to spend a night out there with him.”

“He really didn’t take losing the killer very well, did he?”

A resigned sigh escaped Gunter’s throat. “He tried to hide it when the captain showed up, but he was very agitated. He looked like he expected the captain to turn and scold him.”

Petra nodded thoughtfully. “Well, captain Levi can get quite cross, but if he’s angry with you it’s because you brought it on yourself. He wouldn’t get angry over losing a pursuit in the rain at night.” She hummed and stroked a stray hair from her face. “Well, unless he knew you weren’t even trying.”

Gunter bowed his head. “You seem to know him better than any of us. The captain, I mean.”

Petra held up both her hands and waved in protest. “No, no.” He mouth formed a small embarrassed smile. “It’s not like I know him well of anything. It’s just, what I do, you know. Observe people.” She then looked up at the intersection in front of them. “Speaking of which…” She halted.

“Hm?” Gunter stopped beside her, and looked at her curiously. “What is—”

Petra quickly shushed him. She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice to a near whisper. “There’s someone running. They’re just behind the corner. We’ll see them in a few seconds. Quick, step closer to me and start walking like we’re on a casual stroll.”

Gunter gave one quick nod and did as Petra said.

The two of them rounded the corner, walking onto the dirt country road.

In front of them, a young man wearing a dark-grey jacket was jogging up the road. His breath came in loud drags, and his strides were uneven, spraying specks of damp dirt up behind him. He abruptly turned and ran onto a side road, allowing his face to be seen in clear profile.

Petra’s eyes widened a little, and her mouth made a small o-shape. “That looks like…that boy from the café.”

Gunter shot her a surprised look. “The café you got those cakes from?”

Petra nodded absently. “What’s he doing out here, and at this time?”

“Morning exercise?” Gunter shrugged, but didn’t seem to believe his own assumptions.

The boy disappeared behind a cluster of trees.

Petra chewed her bottom lip. “Something’s not right.”

Gunter hummed and nodded. “I don’t see people the way you do, but even I have to admit this seems strange.”

“I think we should tell the captain.” Petra’s expression hardened. “It might be nothing, but…it usually isn’t.”

“I agree with you.” Gunter motioned towards the forest. “We should at least bring it up. The captain might see something in it that we don’t yet.”

Petra gave Gunter a quick smile and a nod. “Lead the way.”

Gunter called in Erd on the radio and received directions to meet the rest of the team further up the road.

Levi immediately set Erd to fill Petra and Gunter in on their findings.

When Erd had finished, Petra stepped forward and addressed Levi. “Captain, I’d like to mention something we saw on the way here.”

Levi nodded for her to continue.

“We saw a boy in his mid-teens running on the dirt road. He was headed towards town.” Petra gestured to the rucksacks in Erd and Auruo’s hands. “You said those clothes are the right size for someone about one-hundred-seventy-five. This boy was somewhere between five-foot-six and five-foot-eight. He's slim.” Petra’s warm hazel eyes hardened. “And that’s not all. He was jogging, but he wasn’t wearing the proper clothes for exercising, like track suit or similar. He was dressed in jeans, and a pretty cheap looking jacket, one of those thin water-proof ones. I can give you fabric details if you like.”

Gunter looked awed.“Of course, the clothes. That’s why he seemed so suspicious. I can’t believe I didn’t notice it right away.”

Petra nodded at Gunter and then continued. “The boy wasn’t only running. He looked stressed. His steps were too stiff for someone who’s been running from a length of time. Everything about him said he wasn’t there to jog.” Petra locked eyes with Levi. “And there’s something else. This boy, I’ve seen him before. He works at a café in town. The same café I got the cakes from the other day.”

A sharp glint entered Levi’s eyes. “Oh, now this is interesting.” Out of the pocket of his raincoat, he retrieved a plastic bag with a nine-inch knife inside. He stroked the handle with his gloved thumb. “Good for our vigilante he is smart enough to wear gloves; otherwise this could have been solved with a fingerprint test.” He put the bag with the knife back inside his pocket. He shot Petra a barely discernible smile. “Thank you, Petra. You’ve just given us the most solid lead so far.”

Levi motioned with his hand for the group to follow him, and he began walking down the road back towards town. “We need to test this café boy and find out if he’s worth investigating.”

“Yes, sir.” The group followed him.


	5. Chapter 5

The people milling about the streets were nothing but a blur to Eren. He walked briskly, his balled up hands stuffed into his the pockets of his jeans. Thoughts swarmed inside his head. His job clothes were gone. His bag was gone. His axe and shovel. His riverbank, his forest…everything was gone. And worst of all, the people who had taken it from him knew more about him than Eren could have imagined. Those people knew whoever owned those clothes lived with someone else.

Eren licked his chapped lips. A small wave of relief swirled inside his belly. Even if those people searched his clothes for DNA, they couldn’t possibly have anything to compare it to. It’s not like Eren was registered in any database somewhere. Not even from his time at the orphanage--the people who ran it wouldn’t dream of registering their kids in a database, especially not one accessible by police. That would pose too much of a risk for their nasty dealings.

He looked up at the town’s clock tower, a stark silhouette against the depressing grey sky. He had ten minutes left before work. With growing relief, Eren quickened his pace. There were hundreds of people in Trost who could fit the description that short man had dished out. They had nothing real to go on.

Eren’s lips quirked up into a small half-satisfied smile. It would take those people ages to even find everyone who fit that description. And who would even bother investigating that many people? But still…

Eren swallowed. It would probably be best to cut out his jobs and lay low for a while. He wouldn’t try to replace his tools. He wouldn’t stalk out targets. No more jobs. Eren nodded to himself. Yes, this was the best he could do for now. And this way he would get to spend more time with Armin and Mikasa anyway.

A small ray of joy warmed his heart, yet he still couldn’t shake the uneasiness in his gut.

The work day went by in a haze of sore muscles and aching joints. Eren’s hips screamed whenever he stood upright without rest for more than twenty minutes.

He spent almost the whole day trying to discreetly lean against the counter. The sweet smell of cake dancing with the aroma of fresh coffee provided little comfort. A constant unease chilled his stomach, and the home baked sandwiches he ate for lunch tasted disappointingly stale.

He kept replaying what he’d seen in the woods that morning, and continuously reassured himself those people couldn’t find him. Who were they anyway? Detectives? Eren wanted to know, but he also feared knowing.

When Eren was set to leave for the evening, Owner Kirschtein gave Eren a concerned look.

Eren tried his best to shoot her a reassuring smile, then hastily headed out the backdoor. His work performance hadn’t dropped. His body might have been in pain but that sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him.

A chilly mist had settled over the town. The streetlamps cast weak yellow light down on the dark streets, but didn’t reflect in the wet cobbles.

Eren’s steps dragged. Cold crept through his jacket and into his core. Shivers racked his whole body. He wanted nothing more than to get home, curl up under several blankets and sleep for days.

Idly, he noticed, the left side of his jacket felt heavier than the right side. He rummaged through his left pocket, and felt a thick denim wallet. Oh…that’s right. It was the wallet he took from his target last night. During all the confusing events the past twenty-four hours, he had forgotten about the main cause of them—money to buy a new knife in replacement for the one had Armin lost.

He wrapped his hand around the wallet and squeezed it tightly. Eren wouldn’t be easy to steal from, unlike the previous owners, but he still wanted to use the money quickly before something happened to it. His target must have mugged quite a few people, or maybe just one rich bloke. Eren, on the other hand was going to put the money to better use than copious amounts of alcohol. He was going to use the money to buy a valuable tool for protection – use the money for something good.

He took a detour down the edge of the largest shopping street to visit a small hunting shop.

The large red sign at the door glared _FIREARMS: LISECNCE ONLY._ Under it, a smaller yellow sign announced the opening and closing times.

Eren had made it fifteen minutes before closing time. He huffed in relief. It took him less than seven minutes to pick out a four-inch knife with a red ring around the blond wooden handle. He swallowed a small bout of nerves, and put on his best poker face. He walked up to the front desk, and put a small pile of bills on the counter.

The young man manning the counter counted the money with a nonchalant expression. He barely spared Eren a glance when he handed over the sealed, thick cardboard box with the knife inside. Then as an afterthought, he slung a paper bag on the counter.

Eren swiftly bagged the knife, hurried out of the shop and down the street towards home. He took the remainder of the cash out of the wallet and hid them in his jacket pocket, then threw the denim wallet in the first bin he saw. Better not risk keeping a dead man’s wallet on him now.

A few minutes of walking later, he met up with Mikasa as usual.

Mikasa shot the paper bag in Eren’s hand an assessing glance, as though waiting for Eren to tell her what the bag contained.

Eren didn’t feel like sharing his purchase yet. He kept his lips sealed and his eyes on the street.

A steely silence remained between them the rest of the journey home.

The first thing Eren saw when he entered their cottage was the back of Armin’s head sticking up from a blanket cloak.

Armin whirled round and greeted Eren and Mikasa with a smile. He wrapped his woolen blanket more securely around himself to protect from the blast of cold air which had snuck in with Eren and Mikasa.

Concern immediately welled up inside Eren. “You’re freezing.” He rushed out of his jacket and threw it onto the hook, then swept over to Armin and put the back of his hand against Armin’s cheek. The soft skin felt like cold marble. “Let’s get a fire going, quickly.” 

“On it.” Mikasa crouched down in front of the fireplace and started taking shopped wood from a metal basket into the brick fireplace.

Eren put his arm around Armin’s shoulders and guided him to sit down on the sofa. “I’ve got something for you.” He grinned and held up the paper bag. “I think I got you just the right one, but if you don’t like it I can take it back and exchange it.” He set the bag on his lap and retrieved the cardboard box from within it. He put the box on Armin’s blanket clad lap, then sat back and to watch Armin’s reaction.

Armin looked curiously at Eren’s face, then down at the box. Gingerly, he lifted the box and started breaking the seal. He struggled for a few seconds, then tore the seal away from the box with a scraping hiss. He lifted off the lid and his eyes widened. “This is…” He reached into the box and brushed his fingertips across the buckskin-colored leather sheath. “This isn’t… _real_ leather, is it?”

Eren shook his head. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure. As far as he was concerned, he’d paid for the knife, not a fancy sheath. “Take it out and look at the blade. I know you don’t like long blades because they’re difficult to hide and stuff.”

Armin unfastened the clasp holding the knife securely in place inside the sheath, and withdrew the knife, as though it was alive and needed to be handled with utmost care. He stared the gleaming steel four-inch blade.

The anticipation grew in Eren’s stomach with every second. “What do you think?”

Armin’s eyes softened. He put the knife back in the sheath and gave Eren a small smile. “I like the size.” He put the sheathed knife into the box on his lap.

Eren scooted closer to Armin, and pressed his side against him. “See, you can even put it on your belt. I thought about getting you a multi-tool but getting out the knife out of those takes too long. Anyway--Keep it on you, always. Well, I guess not at school, but can’t you hide it in your bag or something? Or maybe you can –”

“How did afford that?” Mikasa’s steel eyes burned into Eren. She flicked her eyes and chin at the knife inside the open box. “That isn’t a cheap knife.”

In the fireplace behind Mikasa, deep orange flames grew, consuming the wood with sizzling cackles.

Eren’s gut knotted. With a sinking feeling he realised he didn’t have a response ready. He hadn’t even considered Mikasa would question him about _money_. He hadn’t even expected to be questioned at all! He scrambled for a believable excuse.

Mikasa’s eyes widened and a small gasp escaped her mouth. “You didn’t take anything from our savings, did you?”

“What? No!” Eren shot from the sofa. “Of course not! Seriously, Mikasa, how can you even think that?” He crossed his arms harshly and turned his head away from her. “I got a raise.”

Mikasa’s jaw stiffened. “Your payday is another week away.”

Cold sweat broke out across Eren’s skin. _Shit._ Mikasa remembered the date of his payday? He was sure he had only told her once months ago. He fought to keep his breathing calm. Something tugged gently at the back of his skirt. He turned to look.

Armin’s blue eyes pierced through Eren. His finger’s held Eren’s shirt a shy grip. “How did you get the money, Eren?”  He tentatively let go of Eren’s shirt. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

A burning knot clogged Eren’s throat. _I wish I could tell you. But you’d hate me._ He braced himself. “Okay, fine look. I got it from an extra job.” He stepped away from the sofa and turned to face both Armin and Mikasa, trying to keep a calm expression. “It was a onetime thing. And no, it wasn’t human experimentation, Mikasa. And no, it wasn’t a drug thing either. It was just an errand.”

He started inching backwards towards the bedroom. “And I didn’t even get all the money for it. I had some leftover and I combined it. That’s how I got the money, okay.” He held out his arms in exasperation. “Happy now?”

He didn’t give Mikasa and Armin time to respond. He turned on his heel and marched into the little bedroom.

He didn’t want to know whether they believed him or not. He just wanted to rest. He practically fell onto his mattress. He threw a blanket over himself and curled his knees up to his belly.

His aching body sighed in relief. Finally, he was off his feet. He hadn’t had such an awful day in a long while. Everything had gone wrong. He’d lost everything related to his jobs. Weird people were investigating a killer they didn’t know was him. Mikasa would probably watch him like a hawk for a few days. And Armin…Eren just hoped Armin wouldn’t need to use his new knife anytime soon.

Heavy sleep claimed Eren in minutes.

 If yesterday had been hell, then that morning Eren woke up in a new level. His eyes ached and refused to open all the way. His bones felt glued firmly in their joints. It took him more effort and minutes than usual to get up and dressed.

Mercilessly cold air enveloped his body, and he was too stiff to even shiver. He trudged into the living room like the living dead.

Mikasa sat in the sofa in front of the coffee table now turned a ready breakfast table, and shot Eren a quick assessing look. “Morning.” She turned her head down and started eating her bread.

Eren looked at her tensely for a moment, then dumped into the end of sofa as far as he could get from her. “Morning.” His throat rasped, and he poured himself a glass of water. He drank slowly. The cold water shocked his throat, but alleviated the sandy feeling.

He didn’t want to look directly at Mikasa and settled to watching her from the corner of his eyes.

She was concentrating on her breakfast a bit too intently.

Eren knew she was surveying him. He had expected her to, but he still didn’t appreciate it one bit. Two could play that game, though. If she wasn’t going to say anything, then Eren wasn’t either.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Armin exited, already fully dressed. He paused before the table and looked uncertainly at from Eren to Mikasa, and the empty space between them in the sofa. Awkwardly, he shuffled over and sank into the empty spot. His eyes shifted between Eren and Mikasa for a few moments. The scabbed wound on his cheek had shrunk to a thin dark pink line.

Feeling relieved Armin’s wound was healing nicely, Eren silently picked up a piece of bread and started eating it without anything on. The dried bread made his throat feel dry again. He would rather just have water for breakfast, but without food he wouldn’t have enough energy to last until lunch. He forced the rest of the piece down, and then gulped down more water.

Mikasa finished her bread and leaned back against the cushions, looking deep in thought.

Eren knew she wasn’t. She was trying to act normal so Eren wouldn’t notice she was watching his every move. A small flare of anger bristled within him. Couldn’t she understand Armin needed a knife of his own? Who cares where the money came from as long as Armin was safer? A good knife was necessary.

He wanted to tell Mikasa he didn’t deserve this crappy treatment. He was just trying to protect them. _It’s all I’ve ever done._ His throat felt too dry to speak.

A warm body leaned against his side.

“Eren?” Armin looked up at him cautiously. His gave a small warm smile. “Will you walk to school with me?”

A tiny weight lifted from Eren’s chest. Armin knew Eren was going to walk him to school anyway.  He knew Armin was just trying to break the tension in the room. He should have realised how uncomfortable Armin must have been this whole time. He attempted a cheerful smile. “Of course. Let’s go.”

Armin’s smile widened a bit. He rose from the sofa to get his too-large coat.

Eren stood up and started after him. While he put on his jacket, he cast Mikasa a quick glance.

She silently waved after them, and her eyes met Eren’s in a piercing stare.

Eren looked away and turned to walk out the door after Armin.

A light drizzle clogged the grey day and tickled Eren’s skin. Wet brown leaves sprinkled the gravel street like mud stains.

Armin’s warm breath created small clouds in front of his face. He shivered, adjusted the bag over his shoulder, and pulled his scarf up over his mouth.

The corners of Eren’s mouth turned up. The memory of a childhood fairytale his mother used to read at his bedside passed through his mind. “Armin, look at this.”

Eren inhaled deeply, opened his mouth wide and breathed out, making a large cloud of warm mist, which floated elegantly through the air like smoke. “I should have told you earlier. The thing is… I’m actually a dragon.” He bowed his head deeply for dramatic effect. Then he smiled mischievously up at Armin. “I’ve got this secret cave in the woods. It’s where I keep my stash of gold.”

Armin blinked at him, and then snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, am I?” Eren sidled closer to him. “But the thing is…a dragon doesn’t just need gold.” He leaned his face closer to Armin’s and widened his smile, showing his gleaming canines.”I also--” He put his arm around Armin’s shoulders, and pressed him closer. “Need to capture a prince.” He leaned even closer, their noses a breath apart. “And I need to take him to my secret cave where I’ll keep him forever.”

A pale pink tinted Armin’s cheeks. He raised his eyebrows, and slowly reached up to pull his scarf away from his mouth. He locked eyes with Eren. “Isn’t it supposed to be a princess?”

Eren blinked. “What?”

Armin leaned his face back from Eren’s, and chuckled. “That’s The Greedy Dragon, right? Your mother used to read that to us when we were little. But the dragon captures a princess, not a prince.” Amused, Armin grinned and shook his head.

“Prince, princess--whatever.” Eren waved, and then pulled Armin along with him down the road. He enjoyed the soapy-honey scent drifting from Armin’s recently washed hair.

“The Greedy Dragon was kind of a terrible children’s story, wasn’t it?” Armin tugged at the end of his scarf and wrapped a stray thread around his forefinger. “The dragon became so mad at the princess he accidentally burned her.”

“Then got so depressed he couldn’t fight the knights and they killed him. Yeah, I remember.” Eren’s fingers twitched in the cold, and he put his hand inside his pocket. “That really was a bad story. Can’t believe they sold that book to kids.” Eren grimaced. “And that mum actually read it to us.” He pressed closer to Armin, their jackets rubbing together with a sound like sandpaper. _The dragon lost his princess in the end. But I won’t lose you._

Eren walked with his arm around Armin until they were halfway to school, and the increasing presence of other people made him feel strangely self-conscious. He let his arm drop but kept but a hand’s length between them. His shoulder ached. He rolled it a couple of times without any relief.

Armin gave Eren a tentative look. “Eren, you know you can tell us – Mikasa and I anything, right?” He gently squeezed Eren’s arm. “We’re concerned for you.”

A tightness tugged Eren’s heart. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He slid his hand down to Armin’s and brushed against it. Armin’s skin was cold against his. “What happened yesterday… Mikasa overacts. I’m fine.” He licked his lips and peered at Armin’s face. “You’re not mad…are you?”

Armin shook his head, sending strands of golden hair flying across his face. “No, but I am a little sad. You’ll tell me when you’re not okay, right?” He cleared the strands of hair from his face.

Eren nodded with a twinge of shame. There was no way he could tell Armin the whole truth. When did lying to Armin and Mikasa become second nature? _But it’s all to protect them…_

Eren hooked his fingers around Armin’s. “You want me to come pick you up on time today? Like I said I’d do.”

Armin thought it over for a few seconds, and then nodded. “Okay. We can try that.” His fingers squeezed Eren’s, and then he pulled away. “See you, then.” He waved quickly, then turned and trotted towards the school doors, supporting his bag with both hands to keep it from bouncing against his hips.

Eren fondly watched Armin disappear inside, feeling the ghost of Armin’s smaller hand in his own and already missing it.

At work, Eren became extremely thankful for every opportunity allowing him to sit or lean against a wall, even if the opportunities meant fewer costumers.

Lunch rush was hell. His muscles and joints protested after ten minutes behind the counter, and the queue only grew.

Eren scooped up a sugar bun to place inside a box, and almost dropped the bun on the floor. He scrambled and managed to save it from a dusty fate at the last second.

The middle-aged business man who’d ordered the bun scowled at Eren from over the counter. “Are you sleeping, boy?”

“Sorry, sorry…” Eren hurried to pack up the bun, half expecting the customer to demand a new bun.

Owner Kirschtein saw what happened, and hurried over. She put a hand on Eren’s shoulder.  “Take five. I’ll take it from here.” She turned to the disgruntled customer. “My sincerest apologies, sir.”

 Eren wanted to protest, convince her he could work just fine, but his good sense kept him from it. That and the ever growing queue of impatient customers.

He trudged through the kitchen, into the small break room, and slouched down in a wooden chair. His whole body sighed in relief.

With nothing else to do, Eren let his thoughts wander. It was strange, now that he couldn’t take out targets anymore. In fact, there wouldn’t be any stalking out new targets either. It was too risky.

Maybe when those strange people would give up their investigations, Eren could resume his jobs. But what if doing so brought the people back to sniff out more clues? Eren couldn’t fathom how they had even found out about his jobs in the first place. If he didn’t know how or why, then there wasn’t much he could do to prevent them from coming back.

A chill went through him. Then this meant…Eren had no choice but to cut out his jobs forever.

He sagged in the chair, leaned his back against the mercilessly hard backrest, and looked up at the rough wooden ceiling. A strange emptiness floated inside his belly and chest. Without his jobs…then what was he supposed to do?

He thought back to before he started taking out targets. He remembered worrying about money and safety most of all, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

He had a steady job, a place for him, Armin, and Mikasa to live. He’d do anything to protect that, which was why he had started taking down threats in the first place. He had always had something to plan toward. Without his jobs, what did he have to look toward? His next paycheck? Sure, the money was vital, but it wasn’t like he was at risk of getting sacked. There was nothing to plan for. Nothing to _do_.

He scratched his hairline. _I should feel happy, shouldn’t I?_

Owner Kircshtein didn’t let Eren return to work at the counter until the lunch rush had dwindled down. She gave him permission to sit on a chair behind the counter as long as he stood up to greet customers and let them know he was available.

Eren felt a stab to his work pride, but he politely accepted his boss’ kind offer.

It wasn’t long until a distraction appeared.

A familiar petite young woman walked into the cafe, closing her umbrella. She spotted Eren behind the counter, and smiled cheerfully. “Oh, it’s you!” She bounded up to the counter. “Eren, right? Remember me? Petra?”

Eren bounced from his chair, put on his most polite smile, and gave her a quick wave, hoping he didn’t appear as awkward as he felt. “Yeah, course I remember. What can I get you?”

Petra put a slender white-wool gloved finger to her lips and hummed. “Well…my travel buddies really loved the carrot cakes I bought last time. You have any today?” She peered at the cakes inside the lit glass display.

“Of course.” Eren tried to eliminate any strain from his grin. “How many do you want?”

Smiling sweetly at Eren, Petra put her elbow in the counter and leaned her chin on it. “We’re thinking going out hiking tomorrow. So we’ll need at least seven pieces.”

“You got it.” Eren grabbed a couple of medium boxes, picked up the cake server, and began carefully scooping up slices of carrot cake from the tray inside the glass casing.

“Oh those look delicious.” She eyed the cake with a hungry look. Then her lips turned down a little. “I hope the weather improves, though. I mean we’ll probably go hiking anyway because my god you try being cooped up with that gang for two days. Actually, I think I fancy a piece of chocolate cake as well.”

“Coming right up.”  Eren finished packing the carrot cake slices, and prepared a new box for the chocolate cake.

“Hey, Eren…” Petra leaned further across the counter. “Do you ever go hiking round here?”

Eren stiffened. A twitch weaved through his hand holding the cake server. Well… _technically_ he could call his ventures into the wood hikes, couldn’t he? He took a quick look at Petra’s curious face before he scooped up a large piece of chocolate cake. “…Sometimes.”

A delighted smile spread across Petra’s face. “Then you must know some good trails, right?”

“Erm…” Eren stiffly let the piece of cake slide from the cake server into the little box. “Most of them are used for horseback riding, but it’s still safe to walk there. There are some larger trails near the roads, though. The country roads, I mean. Not the car roads.”

“Really?” Petra leaned back and smiled warmly. “Thank you, Eren. You really are my unofficial guide.”

Eren wanted to feel better about that strange compliment than he did. With an annoying itch growing on his arms, Eren closed the cake boxes, put them in a bag and slid them across the counter toward Petra. “Here you go. Enjoy your hike. And be careful so you don’t jostle the cakes too much.”

Petra took the bag carefully in one hand. “I will. See you around, Eren.” She turned to leave, then stopped by the door, looked back and waved. “Hopefully.”

Eren waved back and smiled until she was out the door and out of sight. Then he plunked back into the chair with a long breath. His itch had extended from his arms up to his neck and jaw, and he swiftly attended to it.

Although Petra was a breath of fresh air, he really didn’t have much energy for customers today.

Not long after, it was finally time for his long break, and he could go pick up Armin from school. He had briefly wondered if Owner Kircshtein would revoke his afternoon break today because he hadn’t worked the entirety of lunch hour, but luck seemed to be on Eren’s side today.

He was out the backdoor and making his way through town with a hopeful flutter in his chest.

The heavens cast down a spray of prickling rain by the time Eren stood on the street outside the school. The white school building loomed miserably in front of the puddled street. Naked trees on both sides of the street depressively greeted the passersby.

Eren had never seen so many students milling about outside the school building before. Sour faced teenagers emerged from the open glass doors, and their expressions changed to relief. Students trotted over to meet friends and huddle under shared umbrellas to chat before taking off to probably do something fun together somewhere dry.

Eren carefully watched the doors, looking for the familiar head of sunshine golden hair. He didn’t have to wait long.

Armin waded past a couple of tall boys who has paused in the doorway. He drew up the hood of his coat and hurried down the steps.

Eren grinned at him, but decided not to wave in full view of the other students.

Armin spotted Eren easily and jogged to his side. He gave Eren a weak smile. “I really should have brought an umbrella today after all.” He quickly looked around the student filled street, as though searching for something, then he turned to Eren again and exhaled. “Should we go then?”

Eren nodded. Chilly raindrops had started dripping from his hair and down his neck. He wanted out of this rain quickly. “Yeah, let’s go.” He turned to walk when a familiar long face appeared in his peripheral. He reflexively turned his head to watch.

It was Jean. He sauntered over to a group of students, grinning lopsidedly. He clapped a tall freckled boy on the shoulder and said something to him which Eren couldn’t hear. Then, as though sensing someone staring at him, he turned his head and met Eren’s eyes.

Eren was struck by an impulse. Staring impassively at Jean, he took hold of Armin’s hand and interlaced their fingers.

Jean’s eyes widened and his jaw slackened.

Eren smirked at him, and then turned his back to him. He looked at Armin, who seemed not to have noticed the brief staring exchange. A strange little flame of smugness swirled in his belly. “Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

Armin looked a little confused, but nodded.

The two of them hurried home, keeping their hands locked all the way.

 

* * *

 

The ceiling lights were turned off, and the chalky white light from the window fell across the polished wooden coffee table, making the group seated around it look like shadow figures.

Petra sat down on the empty black plush chair at Levi’s right hand side.

Levi took a small sip of his black tea, and then gently sat the small pure-white porcelain cup back on its saucer. “What did you observe?”

Petra straightened her shoulders and put her arms on the armrests, stretching her back to appear taller. “To cut to the chase. I asked if he remembered me, and he did. I ordered. Then mentioned I was going hiking with my travel buddies – that would be you guys.” She cast each member of the group a swift glance before she continued. “He stiffened a bit but carried on. Then I asked if he knew any good hiking trails.”

She turned and met Levi’s eyes. “And he tensed up. He hesitated to think about what to say next. And I knew I had him.”

Gunter hesitantly cleared his throat. “Pardon--I’m just curious. How did you know he just wasn’t thinking over what to answer because he just wanted to give you a good recommendation?”

Petra’s lips curved into small shrewd smile. “Because he tensed up _and then_ paused to think. People only do that when they’re hiding something or don’t want to share their actual thoughts—same thing really. Imagine if he wanted to give me a good recommendation, then he might just pause to think, but not tense up first. Well, unless he had social anxiety but that comes with a whole set of additional signs.”

She shrugged. “Anyway. He tensed because my question surprised him and he didn’t want to answer it. But he couldn’t act rude or refuse either, so he started thinking about what to say. See?”

Gunter hummed. “That sounded more obvious than I expected.”

Petra gave a quick nod. “It is. Most of us would recognise a person hiding something when they’re that obvious.”

Erd nodded to himself, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So this boy isn’t a very slick liar, I take it?”

Petra shook her head. “He’s not. But he didn’t outright lie. In fact he was very clearly avoiding it. He gave me a truthful response. ‘The trails are used for horseback riding, but it’s still safe to walk there’.”

Levi’s eyes glinted sharply. He leaned forwards, put his hands up and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “Go on.”

“Next I asked him if he went hiking.” Petra leaned forward excitedly, and her voice dropped. “And that’s when I knew for sure he was hiding something. He looked really uncomfortable, and then hurried to disguise it. He didn’t want to look at my face when he answered.”

She leaned back against the soft backrest in satisfaction. “His answer was ‘sometimes’. He gave me a textbook half-truth. Technically, it’s not a lie, but it’s also not the entire truth, so he felt comfortable saying it. He was hiding something. Honestly it was so obvious. All of us would have known it even if you didn’t know the signs. You’d feel something off about him.”

The rest of the group looked at Petra with impressed faces.

“I’m sure glad you’re on our side, Petra.” Erd smiled at her, looking both proud and wary.

Levi nodded. “Well done. Now we need to get more facts down. Get a clearer picture.” Levi downed the rest of his tea in one quick motion. He sat the cup down and pushed it aside. He leaned back in his chair, put an arm on top of the backrest, and folded one leg atop the other. “Listen up. Here’s what we’ll do.”

The others leaned forward in their chairs, ears prickled and expressions serious.

Levi began explaining their next plan.

 

* * *

 

Eren walked back into work feeling refreshed from his free time spent relaxing on the sofa at home with Armin. His hips were stiff, but his muscles felt more movable. He hoped Owner Kircsthein wasn’t annoyed with him, or worse, angry about his poor performance earlier. He knew she allowed him the lax treatment because he wasn’t one to usually call in ill or slack off on purpose. In fact, Eren had not taken a single sick day, a fact he was immensely proud of.

Eren hung up his jacket on the wall inside the little break room, and went to retrieve his apron when a racket assaulted his ears. “The hell…?” he turned towards the source of the sound-- stairs leading up to the Kircstheins’ flat.

Jean came bounding down the stairs. The second he spotted Eren his face turned into an annoyed scowl. “Hey, Jeager.” He slowly advanced. “What were _you_ doing with the Arlert kid at my school, huh? And what the hell was that hand thing? You two dating or something?”

A bolt of annoyance scratched at Eren. He rolled his eyes, and turned away from Jean. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with this guy now. But then again…if Jean wanted to know so badly then Eren should at least give him something to go on. For once, he thought of the perfect reply. With a sly sense of satisfaction he turned to Jean and smiled smugly. “We live together.”

Jean looked like he short-circuited. “Huh?”

Not giving Jean time to respond, Eren turned away from him and grabbed his apron. “Sorry horse-face. I don’t have time to play around right now. Unlike you, I actually have work to do.” He threw on his apron and tied it neatly behind his back. “Catch ya’ later.” _Unfortunately_... He walked out of the break room, leaving the dumbfounded Jean.

Behind him, Jean finally regained his voice. “Oi! Did you just call me a horse? Oi! Jaeger!”

Eren simply ignored him, strode through the kitchen and into the café with satisfaction humming in his belly.

The afternoon and evening shift went fairly smoothly. Eren didn’t need a chair. Instead he opted to rely on the technique of subtly leaning against the counter while remaining upright and ready to greet customers.

He was just finishing up wiping down the tables when he was struck with a worry about the impact of his words to Jean. After all, no matter how much fun Jean was to mess with, Eren didn’t want his actions to cause Armin any trouble at school.

Jean was finishing cleaning the break room when Eren returned to hang up his apron.

Eren stared at Jean and slowly walked up to him.

Jean looked apprehensively at Eren, shifting the broom in his hands in front him as though readying to use it as a shield. His eyes narrowed. “What?”

Eren slapped on a hard expression. “What I said earlier--don’t say anything about this at school. And don’t give Armin any shit.”

Jean scowled. “I’ve got nothing to say to Arlert.” He grunted and leaned his broom against the wall. “Whatever’s going on between you two, keep me out it.” He turned on his heel and marched up the stairs to the flat.

Eren stared after him up the dim stairwell. Did jean just escape the conversation? _Coward._  Eren figured it was as good as anything he could get from Jean, and shrugged into his jacket.

Icy night air assaulted him the second he stepped into the dark back alley behind the café.

He shivered violently. At least it had stopped raining. A small mercy, but now he had to face Mikasa again. His stomach dropped.  At least they were meeting up with Armin as well, which would hopefully make the journey home less tense.

Eren’s predication turned out correct.

Mikasa’s greeted Eren in a low, almost hoarse voice. She carried a black bag Eren hadn’t seen before.

Eren barely managed to croak out a ‘hello’ back, and then sealed his lips for the remainder of their walk to meet Armin. Despite himself, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at the black bag, and tried to figure out its content with failed attempts. By the time Eren saw Armin coming towards them outside the bookshop he worked at, Eren had only deduced whatever was inside Mikasa’s bag was probably soft.

Armin immediately seemed to sense the tension between Eren and Mikasa, for his cheerful wave haltered and his face dropped from a nice smile to a slightly confused and disappointed frown. The entire way home, he walked between Eren and Mikasa, which he did every time anyway, but this time he looked distinctly uncomfortable. He frequently sneaked wary glances between Eren and Mikasa as though expecting them to fly at each other’s throats any second.

Mikasa did not attempt to speak to Eren during their walk home.

Eren was relieved, but another part of him found Mikasa’s silence unnerving. Was she really that mad at him? Was she giving him a cold shoulder in hopes he would break and start talking first? Well then he hoped she was ready for a battle because he wasn’t going to give in to her game—whatever her game was!

After entering their home, Mikasa immediately got a fire going.

The little living room was bathed in a warm yellow and orange glow. Long smokey-grey shadows danced on the walls like mythical creatures performing some mystical dance ritual.

Eren’s stomach was growing, and he went to the kitchen counter to make himself a sandwich. He kept watching his friends in between slapping strawberry jam on his bread.

Mikasa brought the black bag over to the sofa, sat down at one end and curled her legs up. She sat the bag down next to her, and opened it. From the bag she retrieved a medium sized round pillow case, a lunch box filled with threads, and a pincushion with several different sized needles stuck into it.

Embroidery equipment.

Armin, who was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa and reading a history textbook, looked up at her curiously. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you embroider.” He smiled at her. “What are you making?”

Mikasa answered while threading a needle with black thread. “A sparrow on a cherry tea branch. It’s for work.”

Armin looked surprised. “They sell your embroidery at your shop?”

Mikasa nodded. “Customers liked my designs. I’ve been making pillows at work for a few weeks now. They’re sold out so I have to take the pillows home to finish them.”

Eren picked up his plate and sat on the floor at Armin’s side. He spread out his legs and touched his ankle against Armin’s. While he ate, his eyes kept straying to Mikasa.

Mikasa’s eyes were intently focused, and her steady hand worked the needle through the pillow case with surgical precision. Waves of warm light and pale shadows generated by the flames danced across her face.

Something nostalgic, half warm and half painful gripped Eren’s heart. When they were younger, before the orphanage robbed her of her creative freedom, Mikasa used to practice embroidery on everything from handkerchiefs, towels, small pillows, and curtains.

Mikasa’s mother had apparently been an expert in the art, and thought it to Mikasa before she died. After living with Eren’s family for a few months, Mikasa had continued her practice rigorously.

Eren guessed embroidery was probably the last link Mikasa had to her mother.

Eren felt gripped with regret for his cold behavior towards Mikasa. She was his family, after all. Adopted or not, Mikasa was his sister. And he was her brother-- the only family any of them had left. They were in this together, him, Mikasa, and Armin. Fighting with each other, and refusing to talk to each other seemed suddenly extremely childish and silly. He should say something, reconcile with Mikasa.

But…

What if she started an argument? Eren really didn’t fancy another confrontation. But he fancied their current tension even less. He steeled himself. He put down his half-eaten sandwich and cautiously peered up at Mikasa.

She was too engrossed in her work to even notice Eren looking at her.

Eren returned his gaze to his lap. He didn’t want to disturb her now. Embroidery was important to her, and he should leave her to it. He would talk to her later, he resolved. Instead he picked up one of Armin’s textbooks from the small pile next to the table, and began a journey into the world of economic science.

A couple of hours later, the flames were nothing but glowing red coal in the hearth.

Armin had fallen asleep with his head on Eren’s shoulder, his book lying askew in his lap.

Warm fondness gently warmed Eren’s chest. Armin looked almost too cute to move. Almost. Eren carefully removed the book from Armin’s lap and put it on top of the book pile. He gently righted Armin’s head and let it lean back against the sofa. Then, he nudged his arm under Armin’s legs, and the other behind his back with the same care he would handle glass. He positioned himself to stand up, and then slowly rose to his feet, sliding his hand from Armin’s back up to support the back of his head.

Armin made a small sound between a hum and a moan, but he didn’t wake up.

Eren carried Armin into the dark little bedroom. His still somewhat stiff back seemed to scream ‘what the hell are you doing?’ at him. But Eren didn’t care about discomforts right now. He lowered Armin onto his mattress, and pulled a blanket over him until only his head was visible.

Light footsteps whispered behind Eren, and a gentle voice murmured, “You take so good care of him.”

Eren turned to Mikasa, and couldn’t help the tired smile on his face. “He deserves the best.” _Much better than me_

Mikasa looked like a mere silhouette in the doorway with the weak light behind her. Bluish shadows veiled her face, but through it an incredibly soft look entered Mikasa’s eyes. Her lips formed her small gentle smile. “Yeah…he does.”

Eren smiled down at Armin. His chest started to flow with an overwhelming sensation, and he just had to lift his hand up to grip the front of his shirt. Warm wetness spilled into his eyes. He bit his lower lip. What was this? He couldn’t understand whether he felt sad or happy.

He hoped it was too dark for Mikasa to see how wet his eyes had become. “Let’s…” His legs felt weak. He turned away from Mikasa and sat down on his own mattress. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” He lay down on his side and pulled his blanket all the way up to his chin.

“Yeah,” Mikasa’s whispered. “Goodnight, Eren.”

Eren’s throat was too closed up for him to reply.

 The next morning a sheet of thick mist enveloped the town, making trees and buildings look like blurry, barely discernible shadows hidden behind a spindly veil.

People hurried about the streets, clutching their coats and belongings closer to them than usual, as though something in the mist threatened them.

Eren kept his hands in his pockets, holding onto his keys. Faint prickles tickled the back of his neck. His instincts seemed to want to make him aware of something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. He scanned the bleak street and the uneasy people anxious to get to work.

Not a single person seemed to pay any particular attention to Eren. No one met his eyes. If anything people were actively trying to avoid bumping into each other or make eye contact, which wasn’t out of the ordinary.

But the prickling didn’t go away. Instead it spread down his back. He stopped casually to look back, but couldn’t spot anyone following him. Maybe he was being slightly paranoid because of the strange people investigating him lately. They couldn’t have figured out it was him somehow, could they?

No. No, there was no way they could know Eren even existed.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. He didn’t have time for this, and getting distracted on the streets, even in the busy hours of morning, posed a level of danger. Keeping his eyes and ears sharp, he hurried to work.

The uneasy sensation dissipated at work, but the second Eren stepped back out onto the street on his way to pick up Armin, the prickles down his back returned.

 _Am I really becoming paranoid?_ Eren half jogged down the emptier streets, scanning his surroundings. He looked back several times, and spotted nothing out of the ordinary.  He listened intently, but the clicking footsteps of people scurrying about made it too difficult to make out any distinct sounds of pursuit.

 

He was relieved when he arrived outside the school only a couple of minutes later than he’d intended.

He fixed his eyes on the glass doors, trying to spot Armin amidst the exiting students. He craned his neck but couldn’t spot Armin amongst them at all. Not wanting to call out and draw unnecessary attention to himself, he started looking around among the students crowding on the street.

He couldn’t see Armin anywhere outside either. Was he still inside the school? Then the hairs on his back rose. _Danger?_ He looked around, scanning the street and groups of milling students.

He spotted movement on the shadowed street at the side of the school building.

A gang of male students were moving down the street, seeming to head towards a side alley, their voices jeering and barking out vicious laughter and insults. Two of them were dragging another student by his upper arms—a shorter student with honey-coloured hair.

Eren’s stomach jolted. No… It couldn’t be… Eren leaped across the street towards the gang. He grabbed the back of the jacket of the nearest boy and yanked him backwards out of the way.

The boy yelped in surprise. “What the hell!”

But Eren couldn’t care less.

The four other boys halted and turned round towards Eren.

In the middle, Armin, his hair a mess and a darkening violet bruise on his right cheek. He looked up at Eren and relief flashed briefly across his face before his eyes widened with fear. of 

Two boys were holding Armin in place by his upper arms with knuckle white grips.

Eren saw red. His lips curled back into a snarl. “What the hell are you doing to him?” His fingers itched for the knife in his inner jacket pocket. “Let him go.”

A boy with a nasty glint in his eyes, ragged dirty-blond hair, wearing a black leather west with small steel studs embedded on the shoulders and glaringly orange flames licking up the sides, stepped forward. He quirked his head, his wide square jaw practically begging for a punch. A faint smirk appeared on his lips. “Who’s this, Arlert? Your boyfriend here to save you?”

The other boy’s faces lit up with grins at their leader’s words.

Armin shrank in on himself as much as he could while being held up.

“Let him go.” Eren stalked forward, the beast in his belly waking from slumber.

The ragged boy stared at Eren, his upper lip swung to the side as though Eren was nothing more than a disgusting bug. “We’re not done with him yet. Arlert needs to learn his lesson.”

As if on cue, a boy rushed from his leader’s side and headed for Eren.

A jolt of adrenaline spiked in Eren’s gut. He saw the first swinging towards his face. He pivoted on his heel and dodged the blow. Wind shot at his face from the force of the punch. Had the kid intended to break Eren’s jaw?

The boy who had thrown the punch stumbled forward in his momentum, leaving himself wide open and his back exposed.

Eren grabbed hold of the back of the boy’s jacket, pulled him back, and drove his knee into the boy’s stomach.  He shoved the boy roughly away. That should wind him for a bit.

The boy hit the ground with a breathless grunt and doubled over, clutching his stomach. “F--Fuck!”

A yelp pierced the air.

Eren wheeled round.

The two boys who’d held onto Armin shoved Armin to the ground.

The ragged boy smirked fully. “Take this, you little shit!”

Three other boys let out barks of laughter and started kicking Armin’s chest, side, and back.

The beast in Eren’s belly roared in hot fury. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists. He bared his teeth like an angry wolf. He launched himself at the closest boy, grabbed his hair, and forced the boy’s face into his waiting fist. The impact made a slapping crunching sound.

The boy cried out in pain.

Eren threw him to the ground like a ragdoll, then honed in on his next target.

The next boy’s eyes widened in surprise, but he was prepared. He grabbed Eren’s wrist and pushed against him.

Eren drove his arms down and head-butted the boy with a loud whack. The force sent a wave of ice chock through his own skull, but he ignored the pain.

The boy gasped. His grip on Eren’s wrists disappeared, and he toppled forward.

Eren stepped to the side, away from the falling boy. Someone grabbed the hood of Eren’s jacket and pulled at it hard. Eren was forced backwards. He stumbled. A fist smacked into his cheek. He rolled with the punch the best he could, but pain still exploded in his cheek.

The last boy, the ragged dirty-blond boy, towered over Eren. Keeping a rigid hold on Eren’s hood, he drew his arm back for another punch.

There was no way Eren could avoid the next punch at such a close distance. He wriggled vigorously and pushed against the boy’s chest to compromise his balance. “Get off!”

The boy was forced to take a step back, but still swung his first towards Eren’s eye.

Eren saw the punch as though in slow motion. In a split second, Eren dropped. The punch sheered over his head, and he felt the force blow through his hair. That punch would have given Eren a horrible black eye for weeks. These guys were seriously trying to hurt him.

Adrenaline flooded Eren’s body fully. He had to get out of this boy’s hold on him. He flung his arm up and chopped down on the boy’s elbow. At the same time, he aimed a kick at the boy’s midriff and his heel dug into the boy’s vulnerable belly.

The boy doubled over with his breath knocked out of him. He made a choking sound, but refused to let go of Eren’s hood.

Eren’s jacket was horribly twisted. “Let go, damn it!” He snarled and punched the boy in the cheek.

The boy grunted in pain and his grip on Eren’s hood loosened.

Eren twisted out of the boy’s hold and jumped back.

The boy curled his lip back to show teeth smeared with red spittle. He spit out a mouthful of blood. “Bastard!” He straightened up and shot towards Eren. His hand stretched out, aiming for the front of Eren’s jacket.

Eren stepped to the side but wasn’t fast enough.

The boy caught hold of Eren’s jacket and grinned viciously. “You think you can beat me, huh?” He pulled his arm back for a jaw breaking punch.

Every muscle in Eren’s body tensed. He struggled against the boy’s iron grip to no avail. He had no choice but to take the punch and hope for the best.

Armin appeared, barreled into the tall boy’s side, and shoved hard. “Get off him!”

The boy’s eyes widened. He lost his balance and fell to the side, dragging Eren down with him.

Eren’s side smashed into the uneven cobbles. Pain shot through his shoulder and into the base of his skull. He hissed sharply and tried to rise to his hands and knees.

“Arlert, you fuckin’ bastard!” The other boy started rising back to his feet, shaking with rage.

Eren could not—would not let the boy hurt Armin. He threw one arm around the boy’s neck and pulled him back down. “Don’t even think about it!”

“Fuck off, you bastard!” The boy fought against Eren’s grasp. “Go die in a skip you fuckin’ shithead fairy!” He drove his elbow sharply into Eren’s ribs.

Eren’s ribs flared with pain. A gasping yell escaped his throat. It felt like a metal pole had been shot into his side.

The boy wrestled Eren into the ground, using his whole weight in assault. He leaned over Eren and plunked down to sit on Eren’s stomach.

Eren growled deep in his throat. The pain in his ribs was blinding. He couldn’t push back with all his strength.

Armin grabbed the boy’s shoulders from behind and desperately pulled at him, his face beaded with sweat.

The boy spun round and punched Armin in the belly. “Fuck off Arlert!”

Armin gasped. He lost his grip on the boy’s shoulders, and doubled over, clutching his stomach with gritted teeth.

Eren roared in fury. An urge to drive his knife into the boy’s pale exposed throat seared through him. He forced strength into his upper body and shot up, readying to grab at the boy’s hair.

The boy was on him again like a stubborn dog. He grabbed Eren’s arms and forced them down next to both sides of Eren’s head, pinning him in place.

Eren tried to yank his arms free but the boy’s iron grip refused to yield. He bucked violently against the offending weight. This was the most humiliating position he could think of. At least as long as the boy couldn’t throw a punch, or round on Armin while holding Eren’s arms.

The other boys Eren had thrown down earlier had risen back up. Their faces contorted with scowls.

Two of them grabbed Armin under the arms from behind, their fists burying into Armin’s jacket. They pulled Armin backwards and threw him to the ground.

Armin cried out with surprise. He rolled a little distance away.

The boys hounded after Armin, and didn’t give him a chance to rise up before they barreled vicious kicks into his ribs.

Eren’s entire body seethed with rage, burning like fire. The flip switched. The beast inside him broke free from Eren’s weakened self-restraint. Armin was sacred. Armin was the one person they should never touch if they wanted to live.

A viciously cold calm descended over Eren. He gathered all his strength, dug his feet into the ground, then pushed off and forward.

The boy on top of him careened forwards.

Eren turned his hips slightly sideways.

The boy tumbled to the side and off Eren. His grip on Eren’s arms was forced away.

Eren hurled round and launched to his feet. He zipped his jacket halfway down. Without thinking, he ran towards the boys kicking Armin. Automatically, his hand reached inside his jacket’s inner pocket. His fingers curled around the welcoming knife handle. In one swift motion, he whipped out his knife and held it up horizontally in front of his face. “Get the fuck away from Armin!”

At Eren’s yell, the boys momentarily stopped kicking Armin and turned their heads towards Eren.

“Fuck! He’s got a knife!” One of the boys grabbed the boy at his side and drew him back.

The boys backed off several steps and tensed, their knees bent, readying for fight or flight, but their large eyes betrayed their fear.

So these guys had some survival sense after all. Eren halted with his knife held high, ready to take on any who dared.

Sharp intakes of breath sounded all around.

That’s when Eren’s noticed his surroundings. As through ice water was splashed on him, the haze of hot rage abruptly lifted, and his thoughts cleared.

A dense crowd of teenagers had gathered a few meters away at the entrance of the shadowy street, and watched with wide anxious eyes.

“Jaeger?” A familiar voice called out.

Eren’s eyes found Jean at the forefront of the crowd.

Jean took a step towards Eren. “What the fuck is going on here, Jaeger?

Eren didn’t feel like answering, but growled out anyway. “They were hurting Armin.”

_Armin!_

Armin was curled up on the ground, his arms shielding his stomach. His bruised face scrunched up with pain. He shocked out wheezing coughs, and shakily started to sit up. He hissed in pain and carefully righted himself.

Eren’s heart jolted in fear. He jumped to Armin’s side and crouched down. “Are you okay?” With his free hand, he reached out and cupped Armin’s jaw, delicately as though Armin might fall apart at his touch.

Armin met Eren’s eyes. “I…I don’t know.”

This was unforgivable.

 Eren stood back up to stand protectively in front of Armin, shielding him from the gang of boys and the crowd.

The dirty-blond leader boy had gotten back to his feet. He stomped over to the rest of his gang, his lips pulled back in a silent growl. He patted down his leather west, glaring daggers at Eren.

Eren lifted his knife a bit at his side, delivering a clear threat.

The leader boy averted his eyes.

Jean’s voice spoke up again.” Okay, you’ve made your point, Jaeger.” Jean carefully stepped away from the crowd and towards Eren. “For fuck’s sake, put that away already.” Then he looked at the gang of boys. “Alright, Peters, the fight’s over. Better quit now before teachers show up as well.”

The leader boy, apparently called Peters, bristled at Jean. “This is none of your business, Kirscthein.”

Jean scoffed. “Look around you. There are witnesses to hell and back, and I’m pretty sure I saw at least five run to get teachers.” Jean held up his hands. “Hey, it’s not a threat. But everyone here knows you’re one strike away from being expelled. If you get out now you won’t get caught.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice dropped. “You better watch it, Kirschtein.”

A tall freckled boy broke from the crowd. He held his palm up in a calming manner. “Now, now. We’re not against you, Peters. Really.” He walked up next to Jean. “The principal is on his way out right now. I just ran past him in the hall. Many already reported the fight. There’s nothing we can do now.”

Peters hissed in frustration and sent glares at the crowd. He wiped his mouth and chin, and then turned to his gang. “Let’s get outta here.” He shoved his hands into the pockets. This is a fuckin’ drag anyway.” He started slouching towards the crowd. “Move!”

The crowd parted for him like a flock of pigeons. Several students stepped in front of their friends much like Eren had done with Armin.

Peters didn’t seem to care about the other students anymore. Without turning his head, he yelled back. “Your fuckin’ boyfriend’s a psycho, Arlert!”

Peters’ gang sent Eren, Armin, Jean, and his freckled friend narrowed eyed glares, and followed their leader through the crowd.

As soon as Peters and his gang were out of sight behind the street corner, murmurs broke out among the watching teenagers.

Jean addressed the crowd. “What are you all still hanging here for? Does this look like a theater stage? School’s out, go and have some fun already.”

The students started departing, chatting quietly among themselves. Several teens sent Eren dubious and nervous glances.

Eren wanted to glare at them and tell them to sod off, but he didn’t have the energy. He noticed he was still holding his knife in plain sight, and quickly pocketed it. The remainder of his anger receded fast, and concern flooded him. Armin was hurt. He kneeled back down and quickly scanned Armin from head to toe.

The bruise on Armin’s face was obvious, but the way Armin hugged his sides alluded to worse injuries hidden underneath his clothes.

He had to get Armin home quickly, where he could safely and _privately_ look him over. “How bad is it? Can you stand? Here—” Eren reached out and gently sneaked his arm under one of Armin’s arms. “Ready?”

Armin leaned into Eren and nodded. A flicker of pain crossed his face.

Eren slowly supported Armin until they were both standing. “Can you walk okay?”

Armin nodded at him, his face tense, as though holding in expressions of pain.

Not wanting to risk making any injuries worse, Eren put his arm tentatively around Armin’s shoulders, and gently walked Armin towards the still dissipating crowd.

Jean called out after them. “Oi, Jaeger! Hey, Jaeger, wait!”

Eren ignored him. He straightened his back to make himself appear taller, and put on a hostile expression, hoping to ward off any stares. He walked Armin out of the parting crowd, holding him as close without pressing on him too hard.

Footsteps pounded against the cobbles, and then Jean was at Eren’s side, his brows drawn tight together with a line between them. “Damn it, Jaeger. Listen, will you.”

Eren internally growled in frustration. Couldn’t he see Eren had to get Armin home right now? “Not now, Jean.”

Jean groaned. “Of course there’s no use talking to your thick head, is there?” He then looked to Armin. “Arlert, are you okay? Do you need…I don’t know, to go to the hospital or something?”

Eren rounded on Jean. “Listen, thanks for earlier, but we don’t need more of your help, alright. Stay out of this.”

Jean stomped to a stop. “Alright, fine. Keep being a thickheaded, reckless idiot.”

Eren left Jean grumbling to himself behind, and didn’t look back.

Once round a corner further down the street, Armin peered up at Eren. “Maybe we should talk to him later? He helped us out, after all.”

“I’ll probably see him at work. I’ll…” Eren internally cringed. “…I’ll talk to him then. Damn.That’s feels really weird to say.” He shook the weird feeling off. He would figure out how to avoid crossing that bridge later. Getting Armin home and safe were his top priorities for now. “Let’s just go home.”


	6. Chapter 6

 Eren didn’t know the extent of Armin’s injuries, and kept the pace slow to avoid making Armin strain himself. His senses were on high alert for any potential dangers on the street.

Once they reached the flat, a wave of tension left Eren’s shoulders. He unlocked the door and supported Armin inside.

The cottage held the smoky scent of coal.

Eren rushed out of his jacket and shoes. A wave of cold hit him, and made him shiver. A minor discomfort. He needed to assess Armin’s injuries, and make sure he would be okay.

Armin started unbuttoning his coat and his hands moved too slowly, with too much deliberation.

Eren leaned towards Armin. “I’ll help you.” He squatted and started working loose the buttons at the bottom of Armin’s coat.

Armin peered down at him. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

Eren nodded absently. “I know. But I want to do this.” He unbuttoned Armin’s coat from the bottom up until he reached the buttons Armin had already pulled free.

Armin bent down to untie his shoes. A gasp escaped his mouth, and his body froze.

“I’ll do it.” Eren untied Armin’s shoelaces in less than four seconds.

Armin straightened back up, breathing slowly. His voice came out small. “I…I’m sorry.” He lifted his leg, allowing Eren to pull his shoes off.

“It’s nothing to apologise for.” Eren gently removed Armin’s shoes and set them neatly next to his own haphazardly strewn ones against the wall. He stood back up and gave Armin what he hoped came off as a reassuring smile.

Armin’s chin lowered slightly, making his eyes barely visible under his fringe.

“Sit down. I’ll get the fire.” Eren ushered Armin to the sofa.

Armin sat down cautiously, as though afraid the sofa would break under him.

Eren grabbed the blanket from the armrest, and pulled the blanket over Armin’s legs. He turned on the lone lamp, hurried to the fireplace, and put logs in the hearth. He picked the matchbox off the floor, and retrieved a match from it. His hands had turned white as a newly washed plate. Shivers spilled down his arms and made his hands shake, foiling his attempt at lighting the match against the coarse side of the matchbox. “Come on, damn it.”

If only he still had his lighter… But that was in the pocket of his ‘job’ trousers—and those trousers had been taken by the strange people Eren really didn’t want to think about. He would need to buy a new lighter soon. If only to make lighting a fire much less annoying. He poured concentration into his hands, forced them steady, and swiped the match against the matchbox. A flame erupted at the match’s red tip with a low whoosh. Success. He threw the lit match into the fireplace.

Baby flames hatched on the shredded pieces of newspapers, and started consuming the twigs between the logs.

Satisfied, Eren stepped back and stood in front of Armin. “Can you take off your shirt?”

Armin unbuttoned his shirt and opened it. Dark purple and blue bruises painted Armin’s white skin like horrible paint spill. One black bruise the size of Eren’s entire hand glared on Armin’s right side.

The little warmth Eren had regained left his body. He knelt between Armin’s knees. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the vicious dark bruise. “Does it hurt?”

Armin shivered and shied away from Eren’s touch. “A bit. I think it’s just the muscles, though.” He shifted in his seat as though further assessing his own pain. “I’m pretty sure nothing is broken. It hurts to bend down, and lean to the side. I can breathe just fine, though.”

Eren’s stomach unclenched. Nothing broken… Armin would be fine. But still… “Do you need anything? Bandaging?”

Armin thought it over. “I think I should be fine. I think I have to take it slow a few days, though. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head shamefully. “I don’t think I’ll be much good for the next few days. Actually…” He chewed his bottom lip. “With injuries like this…it’s likely to feel worse in a few days.”

Eren’s looked at the floor and curled his lip back. How dare they do this to Armin— _his_ Armin. That gang of boys were nothing but scum. He wanted to run out and hunt them down one by one and make them pay. Peters would be the first to go. His fingers itched for his knife. But he had to keep himself in check. He couldn’t very well eliminate a gang of dumb teenagers.

He dropped the silent snarl and breathed out. “Why did they go after you?” He looked up at Armin’s face. “It wasn’t because of…because of me, right?” He clutched his own trousers at the thighs. “Because they saw you with me and…and stuff?” _Because they thought we were dating_?

Armin winced and shook his head. “That was…well…the truth is Peters and the others have been after me for a few weeks now.” His shoulders hunched, and he put one arm across his stomach as though to shield himself. “That’s actually why I’ve been staying back at the library after school. Those guys don’t have the patience to stick around for very long. Ten minutes. I counted.”

He seemed to shrink in his seat. “I thought I’d be alright to leave on time now, though. I mean there would be lots of other students around, and if we left quickly enough they probably wouldn’t notice…”

Eren blinked. That meant…When Eren had asked Armin to leave school on time, he’d actually put Armin straight into their path. A fist tightened around his heart. _This is my fault…_ His knees faltered and he sunk down on the floor. He felt like punching the floorboards but couldn’t conjure the effort. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Armin.” His head felt filled with lead, and he dipped his chin. “I shouldn’t have asked to change your schedule. I should have just respected your ways. I was selfish. I’m so sorry.”

“Eren… look at me, Eren.”

Eren didn’t want to. He felt as though a chain extended from his heart and locked into the floor. But…he had no right to refuse Armin’s request. With effort, he raised his head and looked at up Armin.

Nothing but earnest gentleness shone in Armin’s eyes. “This is not your fault, Eren. I should have told you about Peters and the others.”  He shifted to lean further forward with a slight wince. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, they would‘ve probably dragged me into an alley and…and it would have ended up worse.” He put his hand on top of Eren’s head and began brushing his fingers through Eren’s hair.

Eren’s throat and chest ached. He didn’t deserve Armin’s gentle touch. He should draw back, but couldn’t, as though a warm invisible force extended from Armin’s palm and held him in place.

 “My own secrets caused this.” Armin sighed, and drew his hand back. “And…there’s a reason Peters and the others wanted to get back at me.”

“What?”

Armin patted the seat next to him.

Come sit.

Eren pushed himself up, and slowly planted himself next to Armin, mindful to keep a few inches away from him.

Armin looked down between his knees, and took a deep breath. “A month ago, I caught Peters and the others breaking into the science lab at school. I saw them picking the lock on the dangerous chemicals cabinet. I’m not entirely sure what they planned to do, but the stuff they took is poisonous, and if you know how you can even make small explosives.”

Armin let out a little cough and licked his lips. “I couldn’t let them take something that dangerous. I went to tell the headmaster. They saw me going down the hall and called after me. I ran to the headmaster’s office. Peters and the others were caught while putting the stuff they took back into the cabinets. That’s why they were after me. They wanted revenge because I snitched on them.”

Eren stared at Armin. He wished Armin hadn’t stuck his neck out. But then again, dangerous chemicals in the hands of the likes of Peters and his gang… He could understand why Armin had wanted to stop them. Eren would likely have done the same. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or Mikasa?”

Armin glanced at Eren through his golden fringe. “I…didn’t want to worry you guys even more.” He looked down at his lap and gripped the edge of the blanket. His fingers tinged with blue. “I thought I could handle it on my own.”

The fist seizing Eren’s heart decided to twist it. If only he could turn back time and tell Armin he didn’t have to worry about worrying Eren and Mikasa. He swallowed thickly and lowered his gaze to Armin’s chest.

The light from the fully grown fire in the fireplace made the bruises on Armin’s ribs look even worse--contrasting starkly like black burns against his creamy skin.

Eren couldn’t bear to look at the bruises directly any longer. He fixed his gaze on Armin’s white shirt. “Is there anything you need? For those, I mean.” Eren motioned feebly at Armin’s midriff.

Armin retreated into thought for a moment. “If only I could read through Homely Cures again, then I could get to know more. I read a bit of it at work when I had time, but I didn’t memorize it all. It’s at the back of the book shop. It’s not for sale, though. It’s part of Mrs. Reeve’s private collection.”

“I’ll get it for you. You can’t go into work tonight. I can’t let you anyway. And Mikasa would kill me if I let you go to work like this. I’ll go get it. Your boss would let you borrow it, right?”

Armin seemed lost for words for a moment. His voice dropped to a mumble. “Maybe. There’s a chance, I guess.”

Eren nodded resolutely to himself. “I’ll get it. Tonight. I promise.”

The corners of Armin’s mouth quivered in a strained smile. “Thank you. But…don’t you have work soon?”

Eren looked at the little clock on the wall. He had thirty minutes until his shift started. “I can skip. If you need me to stay—”

“It’s fine. You should go to work, Eren.” Shivering, Armin stiffly leaned back against the cushions. He pulled his shirt closed and started buttoning it back up.  “Since I can’t work today, then at least you should, right? Unless…” Armin paused buttoning his shirt and looked at Eren “Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay.” Eren forced on a crooked smile. “I’m practically indestructible. It’s going to take more than that Peters and some stupid goons to take me down.”

Armin stared at Eren as though trying to see through Eren’s clothes, and slowly nodded. “You can tell me if you need something too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eren laughed dryly. “But I’m all fine.” And he would prove it by going to work. He didn’t want to leave Armin alone at all. But Armin was right. Eren should go to work--they needed the money after all. “I’ll go then. I just need the bathroom first.”

Eren plodded into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. Finally in privacy, he could look himself over. A faint throbbing maintained in his cheek, and his ribs still held a dull ache where Peters had jammed an elbow into him.

He removed his shirt and looked down at his own torso, feeling like his body was becoming a museum of bruises. Faint blue dots from the night he was almost mugged still lingered on his waist and shoulder blades. Under his trousers, the knee he’d banged against a rock during his escape from the riverbank still sported a large blue and purple spot. A new cherry-red bruise the size of a saucer had formed on his ribs. At least that one could be hidden under his clothes.

He looked into the mirror. The bluish-purple bruise swelling on his face from Peters’s punch could not be hidden so easily. And there wasn’t a smudge of makeup in their flat--Mikasa didn’t want to waste money on it. Covering the bruise wasn’t an option. He hoped Owner Kirscthein wouldn’t mind his appearance--or rather, he hoped he wouldn’t frighten away customers.

Eren finished up in the bathroom and went to his jacket on the wall. As he put it on, he shot Armin a careful look. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Armin nodded and shot Eren a kind smile. “I’ll be fine.” He picked up the blanket folded up at the end of the sofa and tucked it over his lap “See you soon.”

Eren nodded back at him. “Yeah.” He headed out the door, locked it, and pulled the handle to test if he’d locked it well enough. The door didn’t budge. He silently told the little cottage to keep Armin safe, and wandered down the road.

Eren was fully prepared to be put to cleaning the toilets and scrubbing down the kitchen by the time he arrived at the Kircsthein Café. What he wasn’t prepared for was Jean.

Jean lounged in the break room, his legs on the little table, ankles crossed, as though he had been waiting for Eren to appear.

Opposite Jean sat the tall freckled boy who had also spoken up against Peters earlier.

Jean swung his legs from the table, stood from his chair, and cast Eren a serious expression. “How’s Arlert?”

Eren stared at Jean with misgivings. “Why do you care?”

Jean looked affronted. “Contrary to what you may believe, Jaeger, I am actually not a bad guy. Peter’s gang went rough on you two, and it looked like Arlert got the worst of it.”

Eren suppressed a grunt, and turned away from Jean. “Armin will be fine.” He removed his jacket and hung it up. Determined to get to work without further conversation, he strode to his apron hanging on the opposite wall.

“Listen, Jaeger.” Jean approached him. “Arlert and I…we aren’t like actual friends, but he is in my class. He is our classmate and he deserves to know what happened after you two left.”

Eren’s jaw tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Listen. After that shit you pulled with the knife, word spread like head lice. Pretty much the whole school knows by now. There’s all kind of rumors already. And because I actually am a decent person, I thought Arlert deserves to know what he’ll be facing next time he shows up at school. You said you and Arlert live together, so as much as I dislike it, I’ll tell you, so you can tell him.” Jean pointed at an empty chair. “Have a seat, Jaeger.”

Eren shifted his gaze from Jean, to the chair, and back to Jean. He could barely stand a lecture from Mikasa. He had no patience for one from Jean of all people. But if this was in Armin’s best interests… Eren grabbed his apron, and slowly sat with his arms crossed, still holding the apron in his fist. “Make it quick.”

Jean took the seat he had occupied earlier. “Like I said, there’s a shit-ton of rumors, but basically most of them say Arlert is dating some violent psycho kid. But listen here, Jaeger. Peters is a brat, but he’s a crazy brat who holds grudges, and if he sees you again he will want revenge. And you can bet that next time he and everyone in his gang will have weapons.”

An arrogant smile spread across Jean’s face, and he leaned back in his chair. “But the good news is, lots of others reported Peters to the headmaster. He got expelled.” His smile soured. “And we were all held back to give statements, by the way. Thanks to you lots of us lost an hour of free time.” He looked pointedly at Eren. “But anyway. Arlert should be safe from Peters at school, at least.”

The nagging urge to hunt Peters down and take him out growled at Eren. He banished the thought. The last thing he needed was starting some kind of small scale gang war.

“Peters’s goons are still there, though” Jean waved dismissively. “But they’re all bark and no bite without their boss. I doubt any of them want to get any more strikes and end up like Peters, anyway.”

“Right.” Eren stood up and threw on his apron. “I’ll let Armin know. Now can I go back to work? Or did you want to hole me up even longer?”

“Actually, yeah, there is one more thing.” Jean rose again and stepped up to Eren. His eyes narrowed. “If you so much as think about taking out a knife in this café, or even close to it, I will make sure my mum sacks you. We don’t need a violent, impulsive idiot working here.”

Did Jean seriously threaten him…? Eren glared right back in Jean’s eyes. “If you’re so concerned about your mother’s café, then why don’t you start helping her run it instead of slacking off like some spoiled brat?”

Jean’s face turned a purplish red and a vein throbbed on his forehead. “What did you say?”

Eren took a step toward Jean so they were barely half an arm’s length apart, lifted his chin, and stared directly into Jean’s glare.  He would not start a fight at work. But If Jean took a swing at him, Eren would return it.

A cough broke the tense silence.

Eren and Jean turned towards the sound at the same time.

The freckled boy stood by the table, holding up a hand in a placating gesture. “We’ve had enough fighting and arguing for today, haven’t we?” His voice was unexpectedly gentle.

Eren was taken aback. A little bit of his anger left him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then we’re done here.” He gave Jean a side-eyed glare. “I have _work_ to do.”

Jean sighed and shook his head. “Fine. Just go. And no need to thank me and Marco for earlier or anything.”

Jean’s freckled friend gave a small wave and smiled at Eren. “It’s okay. I understand.”

 Eren gave the freckled boy a sweeping look. “You’re Marco?”

The boy nodded, still smiling.

“Oh…” Eren scratched his neck. Had he met Marco under any other circumstance, Eren doubted he would have guessed Marco was Jean’s friend. Way too nice. “Eh…right. Thanks for earlier.”

Marco grinned. “Don’t mention it.”

Jean’s jaw dropped. “Hey, what the hell? You’re not going to thank me then?”

Eren rolled his eyes. “I already did that on the street earlier.” He turned and strode into the kitchen.

Marco’s amused chuckle and Jean’s exasperated cursing floated through the doorway behind him.

To his pleasure, he did not see Jean again that day. To his displeasure, he saw other students from the same school coming into the café.

As soon as a group of five girls spotted Eren behind the counter, their eyes widened.

One girl grabbed her friend’s arm tightly. “It’s him.”

Another girl leaned in and spoke into the ear of the girl next to her, but failed to keep her voice down. “Look at his face.”

The group of girls choose the table in the corner furthest from the counter by the window, and broke out in whispers among themselves.

After what looked like a short disagreement, a girl timidly rose from her seat, and padded cautiously up the counter. Standing a head shorter than Eren, her gaze roamed to everything around her except for Eren. She stuttered out her and her friends’ orders.

Eren tried to make his voice sound gentle, and he smiled at her. “Coming right up.”

She startled, and looked at the coffee machine next to Eren like she was trying to unravel its hidden secrets.

Eren suppressed a sigh. Well…at least he hadn’t completely frightened her away. He put the girl’s ordered foods and drinks on a tray. “That will be-” He summed up the total.

The girl quickly put the money on the counter, and whipped her hand back as though Eren was going to bite her.

Eren upheld his manners and ‘customer’ voice. He held out the change to the girl. When the girl didn’t put her hand out to receive it, Eren put the change on the counter instead. “Have a nice day.”

The girl snapped the coins up and pocketed them. She took the tray without looking at Eren, and walked back to her friends at a pace that made the plates with cakes rattle on her tray.

Several more students visited the café either in small groups or singularly. Every group started murmuring upon recognising Eren. The ones who stayed to eat in the café cast Eren several furtive glances when they thought Eren wasn’t paying attention.

The few students who came alone hesitated to approach the counter, and they ordered in quiet voices while either avoiding meeting Eren’s eyes, or outright staring at him.

It was enough to test Eren’s patience. At least the ones who talked about him behind his back were only annoying. The ones who couldn’t stop staring at him made him feel like he was on stage, and a crowd waited for him to perform something unbelievable and violent.

When he was finally off for the day, he blew out a long, heavy sigh. He pounded through the dark, emptying streets and met up with Mikasa.

Mikasa stared at the bruise on Eren’s face, and her brows furrowed. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you on the way. Come on. I need to get something for Armin.” He dragged her with him to the book shop. On the way, he gave her a rushed explanation of the fight with Peters and his gang.

“I can’t believe you pulled out a knife in front of the school.” Mikasa grabbed Eren’s arm and sent him a stern look. “If Armin gets expelled for this….”

“Then I’ll go the school and explain.” Eren slid his arm from Mikasa’s grip. “I’ll take responsibility.”

They entered the bookshop, which resembled a small messy cramped library more than an actual shop. They weaved their way between shelves and tables stacked with high piles of books old and new, and stopped in front of the desk.

Behind the desk stood a tall, slender lady in her fifties with an affinity for wearing all-green clothes. Mrs. Reeve, Armin’s boss.

Eren employed a little begging and promising to return the book in prime condition, and when that failed, he told her Armin needed it because he’d been in an accident involving some slippery stairs. He also let her know Armin wouldn’t be able to come into work for a few days.

Eren had hit her soft spot.

Mrs. Reeve fetched the book from the backroom, put it in a bag, and graciously handed it over to Eren. “Wish Armin a peaceful healing.”

Eren promised he would relay the message.

They were halfway home when Eren decided this was a good a time as any to…attempt to talk to Mikasa about the…money incident.

“Um…Mikasa…” What did he even want to say? An apology didn’t feel right. _It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong_ … Well…except lying and…the method he had acquired the wallet and the money. _I just don’t want to fight with her anymore_ … “I just…I don’t want things to be…bad between us anymore.”

Mikasa gazed at him, and her stoic expression warmed slightly. “I don’t want to, either.” She let out a light sigh. “I was worried. I am still worried, but… I will trust that you tell me things in time.” She turned her gaze to the street. “And know you didn’t take from the savings.”

Wait… If she knew he hadn’t nicked the money from their savings, then that meant... “You checked, didn’t you?”

“No.” She dipped her head. Her hair swayed and obscured the side of her face. “I know you wouldn’t do that. I went too far. I shouldn’t have accused you.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but Eren hadn’t expected her to apologise. If it meant she would stop treating him like he couldn’t be trusted, then he’d take it for now. He managed to give her a small smile. “…Thanks.”

Mikasa moved closer to him, and their shoulders almost brushed--the normal distance they kept between them in the streets.

It lightened Eren’s heart to have Mikasa back, at least for the time being. He would be a lot more careful from now on, and not give her any more reasons to be suspicious of him.

They walked the rest of the way home in comfortable silence.

The moment Mikasa stepped inside the living room and spotted Armin, her eyes widened. “Armin.” She hovered over Armin like a protective mother hawk and stroked his hair. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

Armin stared up at Mikasa, looking uncertain. “Erm…”

Eren decided to rescue Armin from the fawning. “Armin, I got it. I got the book.” He handed Armin the bag with the book.

Armin’s face lit up. “Thank you, Eren.” Out of the bag, he pulled a well worn paperback. The cover held the image of two serpents entwining up a golden staff with two feathery wings spreading from the top. The corners of the cover crinkled from heavy usage.

Armin had wanted that old book? Eren expected the book to be new from the way Armin’s boss had been reluctant to lend it to him. “Oh by the way-” Eren told Armin the message from Mrs. Reeve.

A fond smile lit Armin’s face, and he engrossed himself in the old book.

They were about to prepare for bed when Mikasa demanded to see the bruises on Armin’s ribs.

Armin showed her his bruises, and his gaze locked on the floor.

Her jaw dropped and a breath left her mouth. She rounded on Eren with fire in her eyes. “You didn’t tell me it was this bad. What about you, are you hiding injuries from me too?”

Eren took a step back and held up his hands in front of his chest. “No, no! I’m fine. Calm down, Mikasa.”

“I am calm.” She fretted over Armin, told him to state exactly where it hurt, and rate his pain on a scale of zero to ten.

Armin had no choice but to do as she said, and rated his smaller bruises two, and the large black bruise four.

Eren escaped into the bathroom before Mikasa could decide to put him through the same procedure. There was no way he was letting her see the state of his body.

The next morning, Eren couldn’t stop watching Armin.

Armin moved slowly and avoided leaning much too either side. He could only dress in buttoned up shirts, and when he came to the point of putting on his trousers, he paused and stared down at the trousers in his hands with a thought churning expression. He bent over, pulled one leg through his trousers, and grimaced.

“Wait, I can help you.” Eren reached toward Armin, but froze with his arms awkwardly in the air. Touching the bruises would only bring Armin more pain.

“It’s okay.” Armin pulled his trousers over his other leg and hissed. “I’m fine.”

Eren wouldn’t exactly call Armin fine.

Armin pulled his trousers all the way up and buttoned them. “See. All good.” He smiled at Eren and walked into the living room with steps almost as stiff as the toy robot Eren had owned years ago.

Mikasa refused to let Armin go to school that day. She even said she would personally go to Armin’s school and tell the headmaster if she had to.

Eren silently agreed with Mikasa. He had yet to tell Armin what he heard from Jean yesterday, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. He gave Armin an abashed wave and left for work.

The streets gloomed in thick fog. The streetlights were still on and looked like glowing yellow orbs lined above the streets.

Halfway to work, the familiar prickling at the back of his neck returned. He looked back.

People with thick coats and scarves up to their mouths walked briskly about without sparing Eren or each other as much as a quick glance.

Eren picked up his pace. Was he imagining it…or was he actually being watched by someone? Peters? He had only first met Peters yesterday, and by then he’d already felt watched—twice. There was no way it was Peters. Then… _those_ people… The weird people who’d chased him and found his clothes. The people who were investigating him. But surely they can’t have actually found him, right? How could they?

But who else…?

He shook his head. It must be someone else…it must be…

When Eren walked through the backdoor into the café, his whole body slumped with relief. At least in here he would have a few hours of normality.

It felt strange having a midday break without going to pick up Armin, but if the students reactions to him yesterday indicated what would have awaited him outside the school, then this was preferable. The thought of wandering the streets during his break made him uneasy. Instead, he asked Owner Kircsthein for a shorter break and spent it half-napping on a chair inside the break room.

During the evening shift, even more students visited the café. Word must have spread, but instead of avoiding the place Eren worked, students flocked to have a look for themselves.

The students ordered while staring Eren up and down. The less brave avoided making eye contact with him while they ordered, but as soon as they sat down, their stares burned into Eren.

Eren had to force himself to remain perfectly polite, even a little emotionless because he couldn’t keep up the strained smiling. Didn’t they have anything better to do? He wasn’t some rare animal on display, damn it.  He overheard several students whisper.

“I can’t believe that’s the same guy.”

“He doesn’t look _that_ crazy.”

“Are you joking? He looks mad as my nan’s old shepherd dog.”

“Arlert is _dating_ that guy?”

“Do you think he’s only acting calm?”

Eren knew these kids were horribly sheltered, but seriously? They did have one point right, though. He was dangerous. Just not to them. He wasn’t some mad dog who could turn on them any moment, even if they did piss him off.

He felt nearly overjoyed that he could escape into the break room while the last customers filtered out for the night.

Never had cleaning the tables after closing felt more therapeutic. He vividly remembered where all the little student groups had sat earlier, and he scrubbed the tables as though erasing every trace of the students and cleansing the café.

On his way home, he reached as far as the first corner before he felt the distinct sensation of being watched. He turned back and looked down the street.

Six people. Four walking in the opposite direction. Every one of them appeared as suspicious as the next.

He turned back around and sped up his pace. He kept a hand firmly around the keys in his pocket.

He hadn’t felt so relived seeing Mikasa in a long while. But…if someone was stalking him, then hadn’t he just exposed Mikasa to his stalkers? Coldness washed down his back.

Mikasa shot Eren a questioning look.

He quickly slapped on a smile. He didn’t need Mikasa to become suspicious of him again now. “Come on, I’m freezing. Let’s get out of here.”

Mikasa nodded. “Yes, let’s go.”

The small hairs on Eren’s back stood on end. He itched all over, but didn’t want to scratch, or make any movement that might alert Mikasa that something was off. Eren’s gaze couldn’t help darting to every shadowed corner, alley, and side-street. He was acutely aware of the knife inside the inner pocket on his jacket.

The black silhouette of their little cottage emerged from the dark fog in front of them.

Eren stumbled. If he was being followed, then the stalker would now know where Eren and Mikasa lived. He should stop before it was too late. But he couldn’t refuse to go home without arousing Mikasa’s suspicion. He had no choice but to keep walking, enter the cottage, and risk revealing everything.

For once, Eren hoped his own instincts were wrong, and he was merely becoming paranoid. He had been stressed the last couple of days, and stress could do weird things to your mind—wasn’t what Armin’s psychology book said?

As soon as Eren was inside the flat, he strode over to the window facing the gravel road. He peered out and scanned everything in sight.

The road and everything next to it lay bathed in foggy darkness. Trees were stark black shadows, and the closest house was a ghostly grey dot further down the road. Across the road from the house, a lone streetlamp cast a weak stream of light into the road, making a small ring of light serving only to make the immediate area look impenetrably black.

If anything was out there, it would have no problem concealing itself. Eren imagined men hiding between the trees, watching him through the window.

“Is there something out there?” Armin’s called curiously behind him.

“Nothing.” Eren turned away from the window, wishing they had invested in some curtains. Maybe it was time to tell Armin about what Jean had said? It would at least provide a distraction.

Eren shifted his weight from one foot to the other. How to approach the subject without feeling awkward? _Why am I feeling so weird about this anyway? Just tell him the stuff about Peters!_ “Armin, I uh…I have to tell you something.” He licked his lips and sat down on the sofa at half an arm’s length from Armin. “Jean was at the café and he told me some stuff about what happened after…after we left.”

Eren told Armin what Jean had said about Peters’ expulsion, but kept from mentioning the rumors.

Armin nodded. “I see.” A strained smile curved his lips. “I suppose we should be fine as long as we don’t meet him in the streets.”

“If we do, I’ll handle it.” Eren’s hands curled into fists. _I’ll smash his face in._ He unrolled his fists and instead gripped the edge of the sofa seat. “There’s something more…Jean also said there’s apparently some stupid rumors.”

He told Armin about the rumors, and looked down at his feet. “This is my fault. I’m sorry if this...if I-if that thing about us--” He swallowed. “…D-dating…is causing you trouble. I mean it’s not like we’re really…not like…well…”  _It’s not like we’re some happy-go lucky couple._   His heart seemed to shudder. But if they were together…like a couple…? _It’s not like I would mind that either_ … But that wasn’t important right now.

With butterflies swarming uncomfortably inside his belly, he raised his head and looked at Armin.

Armin fixed his gaze on his lap, and gripped the blanket covering his legs. “I…I don’t actually…” His fingers clawed at the blanket, and he chewed his bottom lip. He dipped his head, his fringe covering his eyes. “The truth is I don’t… really like school.”

His grip on the blanket tightened, and his hands shuddered. “I know you guys work so, so hard to pay the tuitions, and do so much for me. I didn’t want you guys to know what it’s like there…for me.” His voice trembled. “When Mikasa said she wouldn’t let me go to school today a part of me felt relieved. I don’t dislike learning. But it’s so…hard being there. I try so hard but I can’t help it, the teachers…I keep seeing them as t-threats. I can’t stop watching them—predict what they’re going to do. Just like back at…back _there_.”

Eren’s belly clenched up. Back where adults could never be trusted… He dug his fingers into the sofa cushion beneath him. The orphanage.

Armin sniffed and swallowed audibly. “Everyone else is so different. And…and I can’t really…bond with them. It’s like they live in this bubble. Like they know cruelty exists, but it’s not part of _their_ world. They have parents and siblings and…They’ve never had to…do the things we have.” His shoulders hunched, and his voice became small, and strained. “I’m sorry…”

Eren’s chest felt like it filled with lead. Armin had been hiding his feelings all this time--and Eren hadn’t even noticed. This was wrong. Armin had nothing to feel guilty for. This had to stop. Eren shifted closer to Armin until the blanket over Armin’s legs were the only thing keeping their thighs from coming into contact. “Don’t be sorry for that.”

Armin looked up at him, his eyes pink and shining with unshed tears. “You’re…not mad?

Eren lightly bumped his shoulder against Armin’s. “As if I’d be bad about that. Hell, I get it. It’s the same for me-not the school part obviously but…when I look at other people I feel like…I’m different. Like we live in different worlds.” He offered Armin a smile filled with all the warmth he could call forth.

Mikasa sat down at Armin’s other side. “It’s the same for me. It’s okay. We won’t force you go to school if you want to quit. But if you want to continue, we will support you.” She cast Eren a glance that clearly said ‘right?’

Eren nodded. “Whatever you decide to do, you’ve got my support.”

A sound between a relived sob and an incredulous chuckle escaped Armin’s pale lips. “Thank you…” He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and smiled back at Eren, then at Mikasa. “I’m not sure what do yet, though.”

“You have time to decide.” Mikasa patted Armin’s shoulder. “You won’t be going to school tomorrow, either. You should rest for another day.” She gave him a stern gaze. “No protests.”

Mikasa prepared dinner—yet more vegetable soup.

Eren sat close to Armin and ate. His eyes straying to the window ever so often and he quelled the urge to have a look outside.

After dinner, they prepared for bed. The little bedroom had become unbearably cold, so Eren and Mikasa moved all their mattresses into the living room and put them at a safe distance in front of the fireplace.

Eren gave the only extra blanket to Armin with no room to protest.

Armin gently sat down on his mattress, carefully leaned back on his elbows, and eased himself down onto his back, keeping his teeth gritted.

It hurt Eren’s heart. He curled up on his side atop the middle mattress, and wriggled closer to Armin. He wanted to put his arm around Armin and hold him close, but didn’t dare touch him for fear of causing him pain.

Mikasa sidled down like a cat behind Eren.

For hours, Eren floated between sleep and wakefulness.

Heavy rain thumped against the walls, and banged against the window.

The thin haze of sleep cleared from Eren’s mind. His eyes ached and he didn’t want to open them, but he felt as though something was watching him in the dark, and he had to see. He opened his eyes and saw a silhouette of Armin in front of him. Safe.

…But for how long?

It was Eren who had driven Armin into Peters’ revenge path. It was his fault if any rumors caused Armin further bullying.

And now Eren was being stalked…and it was most likely because of his jobs—his mission to eliminate threats. He had wanted to eliminate Peters too. Not just hunt him down and make sure he could never hurt Armin ever again, but even during the fight Eren had wanted to thrust his knife into Peters’s throat.

_What’s wrong with me…?_

Something pressed heavy against the inside of Eren’s chest, as though trying to break free. Shivers waved through him. He snuggled even closer to Armin and reached his hand under Armin’s blanket. He found Armin’s warm hand, felt the soft skin against his fingertips. As though touching something precious and breakable, he put his hand on top on Armin’s.

The warmth from Armin’s hand travelled up Eren’s arm to his elbow. It soothed the force attempt to break through Eren’s chest and lessened it. A small warm tear escaped the corner of his eye and left a wet trail down his cheek. Eren breathed out. “Am I really…a bad person?”

There was only the sound of deep breaths.

Eren hadn’t expected a reply. And he wasn’t sure he even wanted one.

 

* * *

 

First light of morning came through the windows, and bathed the already stark white living room of the first floor flat in an even whiter light.

Levi sat in the only shadowed part of the room, by the kitchen table temporarily stationed in the living room. Despite the early hour, Levi was dressed in a clean, neatly ironed white dress shirt and smooth black suit pants. He sat relaxed with a cup of steaming black tea in his hands, and his legs crossed.

One by one, members of Levi’s group entered the living room and shuffled to their chairs around the kitchen.

Levi watched them impassively while taking small sips of his tea.

When the group was seated and waiting to start their meeting, Levi put down his tea cup and uncrossed his legs. “I have decided. We will tail the brat’s roommates as well.”

Auruo and Gunter opened their mouths to voice inquiries.

Levi held up one hand to silence them before they even got a word out. “This might sound strange to some of you, but we need to put pressure on the brat. We need to see what he does when the two people he’s obviously hiding things from notice _they_ are being followed.”

Gunter frowned. “What if the other two don’t notice they’re being watched? Are we going to expose ourselves on purpose?”

Levi’s hard eyes narrowed. “Oh they’ll notice. These brats aren’t ordinary brats.” He picked up his teacup and took a long drink, then continued with the cup still in hand. “I’m fairly sure I know where these brats come from. Two days of surveillance was plenty to go on.” He put the cup down on the saucer again, and the porcelain clacked. “Any of you ever heard of Red Rose Haven?”

The group looked at each other and shook their heads.

Gunter’s face lit up with recognition. “Wait. Actually, it rings a bell…But I can’t remember what it is.”

“I will tell you.” Levi looked towards the closest window. The light fell upon his face and revealed the dark circles under his eyes. “Red Rose Haven is a little piece of hell.” He back at looked at the group, and something dark swirled in his expression. “It’s Rose’s only orphanage. I’ve met kids from that place, and they weren’t living cozy lives like these brats.”

The group sat completely still.

The air seemed to thicken.

Levi’s voice took on a hint of bitterness. “I said it’s an orphanage, but that’s just the outside. A perfect disguise. Red Rose Haven is a private business. They rent out the kids to anyone who can afford to pay and wants some extra laborers. All with secrecy contracts, of course. Not only that, they sell kids into black market businesses. Underground slaves, human experimentation, sex slavery… And they have plenty of sponsors—and buyers in high places. Of course, to maintain their image Red Rose Haven offer adoption, but their adoption prices are double their rent prices. Kids don’t leave Red Rose Haven. They survive.”

Everyone in the group paled.

Petra shifted uncomfortably. “How…how did you figure out these kids came from this place?”

Levi gave her a look clearly saying ‘obvious’. “Three brats in their mid-teens live alone in a low cost hut. Two working full time. One part time. The one working part time goes to school, paid for no doubt by the other two. Our main suspect shows abnormally alert behavior—like he’s surrounded by wild animals. However, the one who put the pieces together is the one who attends school. He is surrounded by other kids yet doesn’t have any connections to anyone other than his two roommates.

Levi’s slender black brows lowered. “Those three stick together, exclude everyone else. They don’t get involved with anyone they don’t have to. And as that fight the other day showed, our suspect carries a knife, and he’s willing to use it. He also rejected any help offered to him. And the small brat, who clearly got the worst of it, didn’t ask anyone else for help either. He put his faith in our suspect alone.”

He leaned forward, put an elbow on the table, and gazed at each member of the group in turn. “Now imagine growing up in a place where anyone is a potential enemy, adults definite enemies, and your own survival may depend on sticking together with only a few. Lines up pretty well, don’t you think.”

The group sat frozen in their seats.

Gunter’s face was as white as the walls.

Erd had his arms tightly crossed over his chest and stared hard at his legs.

Auruo’s gaze kept shifting between the group and the closed bathroom door to his right.

Petra nervously cleared her throat. “You want to have the other two followed so our suspect will make a mistake and reveal himself?”

Levi gave one nod. “That’s the general gist of it.”

Petra nodded in understanding. “And if he’s got something to hide he won’t go to the police.”

Levi slung an arm over the backrest and casually leaned back in his chair. “Even if he’s miraculously not our guy, he won’t go to the police. He doesn’t trust authority figures. Or adults.”

Auruo cautiously leaned forward. “Then…how will his reaction add up more evidence?”

“Because it will unsettle him. The more off balance he is, the easier he will be to trap when we need it.”

Erd looked up. “You’re certain we’ll need to interrogate him soon, then?”

Levi picked up his teacup again. “If we want this solved by next week.” He put the cup to his lips and drank. He frowned with displeasure and put the cup back on the saucer. “Cold already.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eren was surprised the familiar sensation of someone following him didn’t make an appearance on his way to work. He was momentarily free. This was good, right? Then why didn’t he feel even a sliver of relief? Did it mean no one had been watching him in the first place? Or did his stalkers simply stop?

But why would they suddenly stop? Maybe they had figured Eren wasn’t the person they were looking for after all? A nice thought. Too nice. And dangerously close to wishful thinking.

He walked the rest of the way fast as socially acceptable.

He breezed through baking cakes and buns, all the while his thoughts churned, giving him a headache. Thankfully he didn’t have a long midday break in which to spend endlessly turning over scenarios, and ranking up his headache to crushing headache.

Afternoon rolled around, and Eren manned the counter.

The first student who showed up at the café stopped in the doorway, gaped at Eren, spun round and loped back outside.

Eren would have snorted, but students leaving without buying anything didn’t bode well for business. At least Owner Kirscthein was in the kitchen where she couldn’t witness any incidents.

Small groups of students steadily showed up all through the afternoon, and whispered more gossip.

“Arlert didn’t come to school today either.”

“Do you think he’s hurt real bad?”

“What if… _he_ is keeping Arlert home?”

“You don’t seriously think he’s got Arlert locked up, do you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Maybe we should ask him?”

“Are you out of your mind? We can’t just…just ask _him_.”

Eren’s set the newly filled basket of buns on the counter hard, and the buns bounced a little. He couldn’t believe these people thought Eren might actually keep Armin locked up. _I would never do that!_ He nearly marched up to tell them Armin was home because he needed to _rest_. But that would reveal have Eren had been eavesdropping. However, they really should learn how to actually whisper if they wanted their conversations to remain private.

Eren kept his lips firmly closed. He wished a crowd of customers would show up so he would have a distraction. He picked up a dishcloth from the shelf behind him, and occupied himself with wiping down the counter until it shone like a mirror.

By the time he was off for the night, his patience and self restraint felt thoroughly tested. He entered the break room with his apron already untied. A dull throb resided in the back of his head. He wanted to get home quickly. He spotted Jean by the stairwell leading to the flat above.

Jean’s head was bowed. He held a broom with on hand, and swept the floor with bored strokes. He lifted his head a tiny fraction to cast Eren a disinterested glace, and went back to staring at the broom’s bristles.

Clearly, Jean was not interested in a conversation, or even an insult. For once, Eren shared the feeling. The last thing he wanted right now was another stand-off with Jean. He removed his apron, hung it on the hook, and put on his jacket. He didn’t say a farewell before he went out the backdoor, and didn’t give Jean a parting glance before he closed the door behind him.

Fog drifted like ghostly smoke underneath the streetlamps, and the sharp scent of chimney smoke cloaked the streets. Cold drizzle prickled Eren’s face, and coated his skin like a layer of stinging cooling cream.

Eren came as far as the next street before his skin prickled familiarly. He felt like a deer being aimed at through a scope. He swore under his breath. _Give me a damn break already!_ Fine then. If it were the strange people investigating his jobs then he would give them the most boring time of their lives. He hadn’t planned to continue going after targets anyway. If he appeared normal, and even dull, then they wouldn’t have any reasons to keep stalking him…right?

If it weren’t those strange people…well…

Tension coiled in Eren’s belly. He would have to deal with that somehow—soon. He tried to keep his pace casual, but not too casual. It was dark. He was on his way home. It would seem strange to take his sweet time.

Mikasa met him at their usual spot. She carried her black bag with embroidery projects, and a brown paper grocery bag.

He would have to be very careful now. If he acted weird she would become suspicious. On top of everything, he absolutely didn’t need Mikasa’s hawkish gaze on him as well. Eren slapped on his most casual expression and greeted her.

She quietly greeted him back.

Normal. Good.

They walked side by side without talking.

Eren’s neck, shoulders, and back itched terribly. He suppressed the urge to look behind him and scan his surroundings every minute.

By the time they reached the turn to their gravel road, he was positive Mikasa hadn’t picked up on his inner turmoil.

...Until she stopped, narrowed her eyes, and looked back.

Eren’s back tensed. She’d noticed…? He stopped too. Should he say something? Or would saying anything make him seem suspicious?

She stared down the dark road for a minute, and turned back to Eren with an emotionless doll-like expression. “Let’s go.”

“…Right.” Eren fell in step at her side, swallowing the urge to look back. Mikasa had most definitely noticed something. Had she felt watched too?

When they reached the cottage, Mikasa unlocked the door and motioned for Eren to enter first.

Eren obeyed, and zipped down his jacket. The warmth from the fire evaporated the layer of wet coldness on his face.

Mikasa closed the door, locked it, and turned to Eren. “We were being followed.”

Eren’s throat clenched up. He paused in the act of shrugging off his jacket, and feigned surprise. “What? To here?”

“No. They didn’t follow us onto our road.” Still dressed in her coat, Mikasa glided into the living room, put the grocery bag on the coffee table on her way to the window facing the road, and looked outside. “They followed me from work.”

Icy shivers needled down Eren’s spine. They were following Mikasa now. It must be the same people. They had followed Eren, seen Mikasa, and now they were watching her every move too. Eren removed and hung it up his jacket, and threaded into the living room.

Armin looked nervously at Mikasa from the sofa. “Do you have an idea who it was?”

Mikasa shook her head and kept looking out the window. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Eren’s fingers twitched. He put his hands in his trouser pockets. For a fleeting moment, Eren wanted to tell Mikasa the truth. _They’ve been following me for days_. But if he told Mikasa and Armin about his stalkers, then they would surely ask why someone was stalking him in the first place.

He couldn’t very well tell them _Because I’ve been eliminating dangerous scum and now strange people are after me._

Armin’s shoulders visibly tensed. “Do you think it’s someone planning to rob us?”

Mikasa nodded to herself and turned away from the window. “No. I kept looking around me since I first noticed. They know I was aware of them. When they stopped following, I immediately looked back. They’re unlikely to risk attacking someone who knows they’re coming. I don’t think they will be coming up here tonight.”

“How--” Eren cut himself off with a cough. He tried to keep his voice casual. “I mean, how can you know for sure? What if they’re just…waiting for us go to sleep or something?” 

Mikasa answered without a beat. “They were afraid to be spotted by me once they saw I was onto them.” She slung off her coat and hung it next to Eren’s jacket in the hall. “Did you…” She looked directly into Eren’s eyes. “Know anything about this?”

Eren’s shirt felt too tight around his neck, and he adjusted his collar. He fixed his eyes on the wall behind Mikasa’s shoulders. “I thought it was weird that you stopped to look back but…I figured you’d just heard a cat or something.”

Mikasa’s eyes searched Eren’s face for what felt like way too long. She turned away, squatted by the fireplace, and fed the flames a couple of logs.

Eren swallowed back a sigh. Armin’s questioning gaze burned into his back. He rolled on the balls of his feet. He hadn’t fully studied the kitchen counter in a while. “Anyone hungry?” He hopped to the kitchen counter, and began taking plates out of the cupboards.

Mikasa spoke behind him. “Tell me if you notice something. If someone is following you.”

Eren’s stomach twisted a little. He paused, holding a bowl, and nodded without looking back at her. “I’ll make some soup.”

A couple of hours later, they went to bed on their mattresses in the living room.

Eren lay on his side with his knees drawn up to his belly, and his blanket wrapped snugly around him. He listened to Armin and Mikasa’s deep, rhythmical breaths. His stomach felt rotten inside. His stalkers had started following Mikasa, and he had a sinking feeling if Armin been going to school as normal they would have watched him there. What if they had been watching Armin alone at home? What if they decided they were done simply spying and wanted to use Armin to get to Eren? With Eren and Mikasa at work, Armin was left unprotected and vulnerable.

His fingers curled tightly around the edge of his blanket. He felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He turned over on his back and stared up at the black shadows on the ceiling.

He had to do something. He needed a plan. If he could just get one step ahead…If he could just find out--just see who was stalking him, then he could come up with some kind of attack, or escape plan. The people after him had be the strange people who’d chased him from the riverbank, and found his clothes. But he needed to be sure. Then he could surely find a way to elude them…

He drifted into light sleep.

Morning rolled around and Eren had an idea.

With one foot out the door and his hand ready on the handle, Eren told Mikasa he wouldn’t be able to meet up with her after work because he had en errand to run for Owner Kircsthein. A lie he was sure she at least would consider might be true. He was fully out the door and swung it shut before Mikasa had a chance to reply.

He trotted down the road, wanting to hurry away in case she decided to come after him and ask for specifics about his errand.

The entire day, Eren kept turning over scenarios, developing a plan, and contemplating what part of town suit it best.

During his midday break, Eren visited the grocery only a little further down the street. He purchased a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes, glad the legal age for cigarette sales hadn’t been raised to eighteen yet. He still had to prove he was legally sixteen by showing the lady at the register the shabby identification papers he had received upon leaving the orphanage.

By the end of a mercifully calm workday, Eren was ready. Tonight, he would find out who was stalking him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The silvery moonlight had Eren’s back. Only a few smoky clouds drifted across the starry sky, occasionally hiding the moon for a few moments.

Eren’s stomach did little flips. The clear sky meant he could see better, but it also meant his stalkers could too. He breathed steadily through his nose. He knew this town. He knew his route. When the time was right, Eren would stick closely to the shadows.

Only a minute down the street away from the café, the small hairs at the base of Eren’s skull rose and itched. But this time, Eren would not look back. With his hands firmly in his pockets, and one hand curled around the handle of his knife, Eren kept his normal route home for another few minutes, and arrived at a crossroads. There, he turned and calmly walked into a street barely wide enough to fit a car.

Rusty lanterns lined the wall barely a head above Eren, and spilled weak and flickering yellow light down into the street.

On the wall opposite the lanterns, Eren’s shadow elongated and blurred out of focus with the flickering light. If he just turned his head a little, would he see other shadows following his? He strained his ears.

A ghosting wind whispered overhead between the roofs. The only footsteps were his rubber soles clicking mutedly on the cobbles.

Perhaps his stalkers didn’t dare enter such a narrow street? If Eren turned around there would be nowhere for them to hide along the walls. They must have realised it, too. It wasn’t going to be that easy, then. That was fine, though. He had another plan. Eren strode through the rest of the street, rounded the corner, and entered a wider, deserted street with high streetlamps.

He hid up against the dark window of a closed shop at the side of the corner. He waited, but couldn’t hear anyone approaching from the alley. He inched forward, and peeked round the corner.

No one in sight.

He had been right. His stalkers were smarter than to follow him down that side street. He hadn’t fooled his stalkers into feeling secure quite yet. They were probably taking an alternate route. On with the main plan then. It would take longer, but it should work. Had to work. He turned, and continued his journey at a casual pace, giving his stalkers a little time to catch up.

Less than five minutes later, the skin on his neck and down his spine prickled horribly familiar. But that was good. They were following him again. He picked up his pace.

A few people passed by, and gave Eren a brief glance before they continued on their way.

An eight-storey brick building loomed above its three and four-storey companions. Above the wide sliding door entrance, a sign shone neon white and dark letters spelled out Trost Hospital. Behind the hospital lay the rich part of town—the only part of town Eren had never been in.

He might not know the rich area, but he did know the streets around it. He passed the hospital walked along the outskirts of the rich area.

The deep motor of a car whirred in the distance.

Eren looked up a well lit residential street with gated-off, primly maintained houses, and double garages. Fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances were the only motorized vehicles allowed to pass through the majority of Trost. The rich area was an exception.

He circled half the rich area at a brisk walk, and all the while his back itched and prickled. He turned a corner facing away from the rich area, walked down a couple streets soaked in the tang of chimney smoke. He sprinted down the next street, and round the next corner. He should be out of sight from his stalkers here. He slowed to a walk again, and chanced a quick look back.

The street was empty.

He crept between a couple of bins and into the dark abyss of a passage behind them. His shoulders brushed against the wooden walls on either side of him.

The sliver of moonlight coming through the tiny gap between the roofs far above didn’t reach the ground.

He trotted through several murky and uneven meandering side streets. The scent of chimney smoke that accompanied residential areas weakened with every passage he cleared. His knife was a comforting presence in his hand inside his pocket.

He passed brick buildings with scaffolding climbing up the sides, and wide glassless windows. He strode down three streets carving between flaky wooden buildings, some with cracked windows on the first floors. The stench of wet trash, cardboard, and rotting food attacked his nose, and he breathed through his mouth to escape the smell.

Here he would execute the final part of his plan. He slinked into the shadows of a side street, and leaned his back against the wall. His stalkers hadn’t followed him through the hidden back alleys, and if his stalkers had the sense not to risk getting lost, they would keep to the large well lit streets. And if they kept following the street where Eren had disappeared, they would soon pass by this one.

Eren waited, expecting footsteps coming down the street any second. The corners of his mouth turned up before he could stop himself. Those people thought they were being so clever, but soon they would walk straight past Eren’s hiding place, and then he would finally see them.

Boots clicked on cobbles behind him.

His pulse jumped a little faster. That couldn’t be his stalkers. He grabbed the cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He pulled a cigarette from the pack and took a deep drag of air through his nose. He put the cigarette between his lips and hastily lit it.  Holding his breath, he turned his head a few inches to look at the approaching figure.

A man with his hands secured in the pocket of his jeans walked through the shadows. Dark hair, face covered in shadow, open leather jacket. “You got a spare?” He casually motioned to the cigarette in Eren’s mouth.

Eren internally cursed. This stranger just had to be a smoker, hadn’t he?

The man kept coming towards him. “I see the pack in your hand there. Come on, I’m only asking for one. That’s all, I promise.”

Eren’s grip tightened around the cigarette pack, almost crumbling it. What would happen if he refused? He didn’t want to risk starting an argument, or a fight. The man had already seen the pack. Eren supposed he might as well just let the man have a cigarette. He removed the cigarette from his mouth to answer. “…Sure.” He hoped the man wasn’t a social smoker.

“Great, kid.”

A cold shiver spilled down Eren’s spine. Hadn’t he heard that voice before? Who... 

The man was barely four-feet away from Eren, and his face emerged from the shadows and gained detail. Thick eyebrows, mud-brown eyes, and on his chin…a dark, straggly braided beard.

 _Crap!_ It was him. The man who had cornered Eren, Armin, and Mikasa on their way home a few nights ago. Damn it, why did he have to run into this guy again here?

Braid Beard’s gaze fixed on Eren’s face and his eyes widened. “You…!” He flung at Eren.

The cigarette pack and lighter fell from Eren’s grip. He thrust his hand towards his pocket to grab his knife, but he barely felt the fabric of his jeans before he was harshly pushed back against the wall. The back of his head smacked against the wood, and something sharp stung the sensitive skin just above his Adam’s apple.

 “Hello again, kid.” Braid Beard grinned, a breath away from Eren’s face. His breath smelled of cigarettes and mint. “Remember me? Cuz I sure remember you.”

Cold slithered across Eren’s skin and into his flesh. The back of his head throbbed dully. He could do nothing but stand completely still. A single small move would send the blade against his throat into his flesh. “What-what do you want?”

“Not your money this time, kid. Although I’ll have that eventually.” He grabbed the front of Eren’s jacket and pulled Eren forwards. He slipped his arm over Eren’s shoulders, and held the knife so the blade pointed at Eren’s vulnerable artery. “We’re going on a little walk. Keep your hands up where I can see’em.”

Eren lifted his hands to shoulder height, and opened his palms. There was no way he could reach for his own knife faster than Braid Beard could cut through him. “Don’t you want the cigarettes?”

“No thanks. I just found something much more…stimulating.” Braid Beard pushed Eren’s shoulder, urging Eren to turn his back to him.

Eren stiffly took one small step to the side, turning his back to Braid Beard. The blade against his throat reminded him to stay in place.

A large hand slid around Eren’s midriff, and patted down his jacket pocket. The then hand crept to Eren’s trousers and inside his trouser pocket, where Eren’s knife was hidden. “Knew you’d have something on ya’.” Braid Beard pulled the sheathed knife from Eren’s pocket.

Eren’s jaw clenched. He needed to escape somehow. He was unarmed and trapped in a dark side street close to the bad part of town. Even if he yelled, who would come running to his aid here? His stalkers? Then again, if he even so much as tried to call for help, he was sure he wouldn’t even get half a syllable out before his blood coated the street.

“Now, walk with me. And if you try to run, you know what happens.”

The blade’s razor edge pressed harder against Eren’s neck. Any more pressure and his skin would break. A hand between his shoulder blades pushed him forward into motion. Eren had no choice but to comply.

“Don’t worry about someone seeing us. There’s no one else. They’re all covering in fear because of some story about a hunter. There’s only you and me out here.” He barked out a chuckle. “And we’re going to have a great night.”

Breaid Beard’s fingers dug into Eren’s jacket, holding it.

If Eren tried to run or even walk too fast, Braid Beard could pull him back and slit his throat on the spot. Eren’s gaze scanned the high walls and winding street, hoping to find….he didn’t even know what. He just needed a way to escape. But it seemed like the only thing he could do was wait for a golden opening.

The man walked Eren through several narrow, hidden streets. The buildings around were looking older and older with paint flaking like an infectious skin disease, and several cracked windows, some of them boarded.

Eren’s heartbeats thumped in his ears, and he felt like every step carried him further away from escape.

They walked into the back alley of dark three storey-building with only scraps of paint left. The only window in sight was sloppily boarded up with uneven planks.

Braid Beard guided Eren to a narrow backdoor with old scratches of red paint flaking off the dark wood reminiscent old blood stains on Eren’s cutting-rock by the river.

This building…He knew this building. He’d been here. A month before he got the job at café, when he still worked as a delivery boy, he’d delivered a parcel to this building. He’d never been inside it, but he’d seen addicts enter it. A druggie den.

Braid Beard sneaked his free hand around Eren, inserted a key in the lock, and unlocked the door. He whispered close to Eren’s ear. “Open it. Use one hand.”

Eren slowly lowered his hand and curled it around the rusty metal handle. He pulled the handle down, and pushed the door inward.

Exhausted hinges creaked hollowly, and the door swung open, revealing pitch blackness beyond. A portal into nothingness—or perhaps hell.

Braid Beard pushed Eren to walk in front like a living shield.

Eren stepped into impenetrable darkness. Beads of cold sweat erupted on his back. He knew, unshakably, that Braid Beard did not intend to let him pass through this door again alive. The smell of rotting, damp wood and stale air hit him full force.

Braid Beard pulled Eren to stop. He moved his knife up right under Eren’s chin, like a barrier keeping Eren from moving forwards. “Remember, behave or I’ll have to cut our evening short.”

The hand gripping the back of Eren’s jacket retreated. Braid Beard seemed to rummage inside his own pocket for a moment.

A click sounded and a yellow beam of torchlight shot into what looked like a tiny kitchen.

Braid Beard pushed Eren forward again, past a small counter crawling with soiled cardboard cups, and a rusting sink filled with broken plates, then through a doorway without a door, and into what should have been a living room.

Under boarded up windows lay tattered and moldy mattresses with dirty yellow stuffing spilling out through numerous holes, eerily reminiscent of the mattresses in the orphanage’s ‘naughty dorm’ where Eren once had to spend a week after a fight. Pieces of crunched up paper and tissue littered the open floor between the mattresses.

Eren’s stomach fell. Not a single addict in sight. No witnesses.

Braid Beard led Eren to a staircase barely wide enough for two people. He moved up next to Eren, pointed the torch up the dark stairs, and kept the knife steady against Eren’s throat. “One step at a time now. And keep your hands up.” Beard Braid’s arm looped around Eren’s shoulders like a snake, the knife held firmly in his hand like poised fangs. One step too fast or too slow would drive the knife into Eren’s throat.

Eren concentrated and matched Braid Beard’s steps.

One deliberate step at a time, they passed the second landing. They stopped on the third floor in front of a hardwood door with an old-fashioned key hole.

The man put the torch between his teeth, pulled a key from his jacket pocket, and unlocked the door. He took the torch from his mouth with the key still in hand, and pushed on the door with his torch hand.

The door moaned open, and revealed only more darkness inside.

Each of Eren’s heartbeats felt like a countdown to the end of the line. An opportunity for escape had to appear soon, or never.

 “Welcome.” Braid Beard pushed Eren into the room.

The torch light fell upon the naked living room of a flat with sick-yellow wallpaper. Like downstairs, the only two windows were boarded up, although jumping from them would result in dozens of broken bones or death anyway. Opposite of the windows were two closed doors leading to other rooms. Only a couple of wooden kitchen chairs, and a square plastic table with two mugs on top stood in the middle of the room.

The torchlight vanished, and a lock clicked.

Eren’s stomach turned over. Braid Beard had locked them in. If that lock required a key… He’d have to take it from Braid Beard. But first he had to get away from the knife threatening his throat.

The torchlight returned.

“A little privacy is relaxing, don’t you think?” Beard Braid walked Eren to a chair and stopped. He put the torch tail down on the chair, and the light beamed up at the ceiling.

The grey painted ceiling reflected the light and cast the room in dim lighting, and made shadows creep in the corners like banished creatures.

A hand fisted the back of Eren’s jacket again and pushed between his shoulder blades. “We’ll start the fun _very_ soon.”

Eren’s throat went dry. He shuffled forwards, letting himself be guided. An opening…He needed a damn opening!

Braid Beard made Eren stop in front of a wall. He moved the knife to the side of Eren’s throat, and shoved Eren face first against the grimy wallpaper.

The side of Eren’s face smashed into the wall. He let out a muffled grunt.

Braid Beard’s shadow loomed closer. “Hands up against the wall.” He put a little pressure on the knife for emphasis. The heat from his body penetrated the back of Eren’s jacket.

The skin on Eren’s back crawled. His lips pulled back a little, but he still had to do what Braid Beard said. The wall was coated in cold damp, like a slimy snail trail against his palms.

The buckle of a belt clinked open.

Eren’s stomach clamped up. He stiffened. No…surely he wasn’t going to…? Through his peripheral vision, he tried to see what Braid Beard was doing behind his back. He saw a scrap of the man’s shoulder, and the side of his head silhouetted in the torchlight, but could not see Braid Beard’s free hand. He shifted as much as he dared under the threatening knife to see better.

“Oh, what’s was that?” Braid Beards’s voice held a hint of amusement. “You think I’ll pull your pants down next?” His large hand stroked down Eren’s back, and lingered at the edge of Eren’s jeans. “You’re not my type, kid. But maybe…I might just be yours? Well, if that’s your last request then I might just grant it.”

Eren let out a growl between clenched teeth. “Fuck off.”

Braid Beard grabbed a fistful of Eren’s hair, yanked Eren’s head back, and slammed it hard against the wall. “Bad choice of words, kid.”

Electric sparks jolted through Eren’s head. Something warm and wet trickled from his hairline where his head had collided with the wall.

A belt zipped free and lashed through the air.

“I can’t play with you all night, kid. Grown-ups have important meetings to attend, y’know. But let’s make the best of our time, together. Now, reach your hands back here.”

 _Escape now or die._ If the Eren’s hands got tied up behind his back, his chance of escape would plummet to zero. And so would his lifespan. He had to do something. Braid Beard would need to use both hands to tie the belt around Eren’s hands, wouldn’t he? This was it. His golden opportunity. Slowly, Eren reached his arms back.

“Good, kid. You’re going to stand nice and still now. If you don’t…well…” He removed the threatening blade from Eren’s neck.

Now. Eren kicked up against the wall, and pushed off. The force sent him flying backwards, straight into Braid Beard’s hard body.

Both of them crashed to the floor.

Eren landed on his back atop Braid Beard’s chest, rolled off, and bolted to the door.

The man groaned behind him. “You fucking shit!”

Eren grabbed the handle, twisted and pulled. The handle rattled. The door didn’t budge. Oh right—Braid Beard had locked it. And the keyhole was empty. Braid Beard had the key. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_

Footsteps thundered on the wooden boards towards Eren.

Eren leaped aside.

Braid Beard’s momentum crashed him into the door. He pushed off with his hands, turned towards Eren and sneered. “There’s nowhere to run, kid. Quit it now, and I’ll make it quick.” He held his knife at the ready, and stood with knees bent in front of the only way out of the flat. “What will it be?”

Eren’s pulse beat inside his throat. The key must be inside one of Braid Beard’s pockets.  But there was no way to check without getting up close and personal. A weapon—he needed a weapon. There had to be something…The torch!

Eren dashed towards the torch.

Braid Beard launched after him.

Eren grabbed the torch off the chair. His arm bumped into the backrest and sent the chair toppling. He kicked the chair towards Braid Beard.

Braid Beard screeched to a halt, and the chair hit him in the shin. “Fuck!” He stumbled back. His lips pulled back in a pain-contorted snarl. “Fucking brat! I’ll fucking gut you!” He brandished his knife and charged.

Eren shone the torch into his face.

Braid Beard cried out, and threw his hands in front of his face.

Eren ran to the closest door, wrenched it open, and rushed inside a dark bathroom. He slammed the door shut, moved his hand to turn the lock and met nothing. No key here either. Braid Beard would come in after him. He scrambled into the corner next to the door, and turned off the torch.

The bathroom plunged into darkness.

Eren’s heart hammered inside his chest. He pressed against the wall, and lifted the torch like a small bat. He forced long breaths through his nose. One good whack to the back of Braid Beard’s head should knock him out.

The floor creaked under heavy footsteps coming towards the little bathroom. “You think hiding in the dark will work? You’re trapped. There’s only one way out.” The footsteps stopped right on the other side of the door.

Eren’s hand clamped tighter around the torch in a sweaty grip. _Come on…come on…_

The seconds ticked by in suffocating silence.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get one over on me, aren’t ya’? But what if I don’t come in there. What will you do then?” Braid beard snickered hoarsely.

Eren licked his lips. A small cramp spread through his arm holding the torch up. But he couldn’t afford to let himself relax. The second the door opened and Braid Beard’s head popped through that doorway, Eren had to clobber him.

Seconds passed.

The building creaked.

The door handle turned down. The door slowly swung inwards on squeaking hinges.

Eren tensed. Any second now…

Shallow breaths drifted through the open doorway.

Come on…

A shadow leaped into the bathroom.

Eren jumped. He swung the torch towards it, and the torch grazed Braid Beard’s shoulder. Eren’s breath caught in his throat. He’d missed. He whirled round, and dashed into the dark living room. His knee banged against something hard. He fell forwards, and braced his fall with his hands. A cold flash spread in his knee. He gritted his teeth, and jumped back on his feet.  He’d stumbled over the chair he’d kicked at Braid Beard earlier.

Boots thumped towards him.

Eren turned the torch back on, picked up the chair by its legs, and threw it towards the advancing enemy.

Braid Beard dived aside, but the chair crashed into the side of his chest. He fell on his side, and the chair banged into the floor behind him. Something shiny slipped out of his hand.

A knife! Eren dived for it. His fingers curled hard around the smooth handle.

Silver flashed in his peripheral.

Eren turned his head towards it.

Braid Beard sliced another knife—Eren’s knife, towards him.

The blade ripped into his right thigh, through jeans and skin. The torch slipped from his hand. He leaped back. A dull sting flashed through his thigh, but he couldn’t afford to look at the wound.

The torch rolled across the floor, cast the room in dim yellow and grey light.

Braid Beard rose to his knees, and glared at Eren. His eyes looked like black pits. “You fuck!”

Eren couldn’t let Braid Beard get back on his feet. Only one of them could leave this room alive. White hot fire spread from his belly through his body. He tightened his grip on the knife, raised it, and charged.

Braid Beard dodged Eren’s blow by an arm’s length.

Eren’s gaze followed Braid Beard’s movements. He spun after Braid Beard, and stabbed the knife towards his neck.

Braid Beard grabbed Eren’s wrist, and stopped the knife mere inches from his exposed throat. He pulled Eren’s arm aside, and aimed his knife at Eren’s stomach.

No! Eren kicked into Braid Beard’s crotch.

Braid Beard howled, and lost his grip on Eren’s wrist. He pushed Eren away and doubled over.

Eren fell backwards, and landed on his butt. A cold shockwave shot from his tailbone to the base of his skull. A hiss wrenched from between his teeth.

Braid Beard, bent over and clutching his crotch, let out a deep roar of pure rage. “I’ll fucking kill you!” He glared at Eren with eyes like glazing black marbles, and shot towards him.

Eren shuffled backwards on his butt.

Braid beard kicked out, and the heel of his boot slammed into Eren’s sternum and shoved Eren down.

The back of Eren’s head slammed into the unforgiving hardwood floor. His vision flashed white. His breath knocked out of him, and his sternum howled. The white faded from his eyes, and his vision returned.

Braid Beard’s blurry figure towered above him. One side of his face was covered in shadow from where the torchlight didn’t reach. He kicked the knife out of Eren’s limp hand. “That is mine.” He held up Eren’s knife, and his lips formed a lopsided grin. “But I’ll gladly let you have this one back.” He aimed Eren’s knife at Eren’s stomach.

Fire shot through Eren’s veins. Every muscle in his body contracted, and his vision cleared. He would not die here! In a burst of raw strength, he kicked into Braid Beard’s stomach.

Braid Beard chocked out a gasp, and bent over.

Eren kicked him in the head.

Braid Beard spluttered and sagged.

Eren sent another shattering kick into Breaid Beard’s diaphragm.

Braid Beard stumbled and fell on his side.

Eren rolled onto his hands and knees, snatched his knife out of the Braid Beard’s loosened grip, and drove his knife into Braid Beard’s vulnerable throat. The blade sliced through the soft flesh like a claw at the end of Eren’s hand. He twisted the knife, and pulled it knife from Braid Beard’s throat.

Gargling and choking sounds came from Braid Beard’s wide open mouth. His chest heaved like a fish left to die inside a dry bucket. Dark red and black liquid spilled from the hole in his neck.

The beast inside Eren growled. _Kill!Kill!Kill!_ Eren crawled over Braid Beard and sat on the man’s stomach. He raised the knife over his head. A raw scream tore from the depths of his belly. He brought the knife down in a swift arc, and plunged it into the Braid Beard’s chest.

The blade jabbed against hard bone.

Eren pushed down harder, then yanked the knife free. Dark droplets showered through the air.

The chest’s heaving reduced to mere twitching, and the gurgling sounds ceased.

Eren scooted back and sat on the man’s bony hips. He raised his knife again, aimed for the soft belly, and swung down. The blade tore through fabric, skin, and organs. He pulled the knife out, raised it, and stabbed down again. And again. Over and over in relentless onslaught while screams tore from his throat.

The body stopped moving.

Eren gathered force, and twisted the knife sharply inside the still body underneath him. His inner beast vibrated with satisfaction. The enemy was slain. Eren slowly extracted the knife, and let his arm hang at his side. He panted, his shoulders rising and falling.

A sharp, metallic and strangely warm smell of washed over him.

He knew that scent intimately. Freshly freed blood. Cold crawled over his skin, and he looked down.

Black blood and shredded fabric…A lifeless face with a mouth hanging wide open, and paling lips… A dark hole in the neck spilling blood onto the floor…

He’d killed again... He’d killed again and he hadn’t planned for it… Eren shot off the body, and crawled backwards away from it until his leg bumped into a fallen chair. He collapsed on his knees and let his knife slide from his grip. He was being stalked. He was being investigated. If the strange people after him found out about this…It would all be over.

On the floor, dark handprints led from the body to Eren.

He looked down at his own hands, and turned his palms up. Red-brown, lukewarm blood slicked his skin. He swallowed hard. It was just like _that_ night. The night he would never forget. The night burned like a brand into his mind…

The sky was a dark bluish-purple canvas, and darkening fast.

Eren set course for home, and soaked in the last warmth of the late summer evening. A chill blew through Eren though there was no wind. He shivered, and his skin prickled. _Danger?_ The urge to speed up nagged at him, whispering _quickly, before it’s too late…_ This sensation…he’d felt it before, years ago, on the day he found Mikasa… Eren burst into a run.

He ran down the streets, weaved between people. He didn’t know where he was going, but it felt as though an invisible string tugged at this heart, guiding him.

The streetlights flicked on.

Eren rushed through a side street, barely avoiding bumping into the walls.

From somewhere in front of him came a breathy voice. “Hush now…”

He halted. Someone was close by. He crept towards the corner in front of him, pushed his back up against the wall, and chanced a peek around the wall.

Only sixteen-feet from Eren, a lone streetlamp revealed a tall, broad-shouldered figure with wiry hair looming over a shorter figure pressed up against a wall. The shorter person was obscured by the larger man’s shadow, but the unmistakable steel blade of a knife glinted against the shorter person’s throat.

The looming figure let out a pleased sigh. “Beautiful.” His voice was the tone of a vacuum cleaner blocked by a sock. He ran meaty fingers through the shorter person’s honey-blond hair. “So soft.” 

Eren’s blood turned to ice water. That hair… It couldn’t be…

The large man ran his hand from the shorter person’s hair down to their belly, and up under their shirt. “So precious.”

The shorter person sucked in a sharp breath.

“Yes. More. Show me more.” The tall man grabbed the top of the shorter person’s trousers, and began tugging at the button above the zipper. “Cry for me, precious.”

The short person’s breath hitched. “No! Stop! D-don’t.”

Eren’s breath stopped. That voice. It was no mistake. _Armin._ The very nightmare Eren had protected Armin from at the orphanage was happening right in front of him. The world shifted. Deep inside Eren’s gut, something white-hot and wild awoke and roared, sending primal fire spiraling up his spine. He thrust his hand into his pocket, grabbed his knife and lashed it out. He bared his teeth, and charged down the alley. “Get off him!”

The tall man’s head turned sharply towards Eren. His pupil-blown eyes widened like an animal a second away from an incoming truck.

Eren careened into the man’s side, and hacked his knife viciously into the man’s exposed neck. “Die!”

The man crashed to the ground, gulping in chocking and hacking breaths.

Eren sat on his knees next to the man, and wrenched his knife out of the man’s neck. The beast inside him howled. The scum was still alive. He stabbed the man’s chest, again and again, forcing the hunting knife through clothes, flesh, and spearing it between hard bones until the beast inside him sated.

His opponent was still, defeated.

The hazy heat faded from him. The beast returned to slumber, and he looked down at the messy corpse in front of him. His stomach turned over. His father wasn’t here to clean his mess this time. There was no way he could get out of this. The police would find the body. Eren would be caught, and taken away from Armin and Mikasa.

His throat clamped up, and his chest tightened horribly. He couldn’t go to jail. He couldn’t. _They need me. They need me!_ His breaths came fast and hard. The knife dropped from his hand and hit the cobbles with a metallic chime, which seemed to linger in the air.

“…Eren…” A small and cautious voice drifted through Eren’s drumming heartbeats.

Eren weakly looked up.

Armin stood in front of him, his eyes wide, pink-rimmed, and wet.

“I fucked up. Damnit. I fucked up! I’ve…” Eren hacked in a mouthful of air. Something warm and wet coated his hands. He looked down at the blood trickling down his palms like glistening red finger-paint. “No no no…” His hands quivered. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Armin swallowed. “Eren, listen.” He bent down, and held Eren’s face. His gentle hands trembled. “I’ll…I’ll fix this—we…we will fix this.” He took a deep breath, and his hands stopped trembling. He leaned his face closer to Eren’s looked into Eren’s eyes. “It’s okay, Eren. I…I’ll make a plan. Just like your dad. I’ll make a plan.”

The warmth from Armin’s hands caressed Eren’s face. Armin…had a plan. Armin was going to fix this. Yes, of course. Armin was smart, much smarter than Eren. If Armin said so, then surely it would be okay. His sprinting pulse calmed a little.

Armin moved his hands from Eren’s face to his shoulders, down Eren’s arms, and brushed his thumbs across Eren’s knuckles. “Come on, let’s get up.”

Eren kept his gaze on Armin’s eyes. The soft blue eyes seemed to hypnotize him, calm him, like a link to sanity. He nodded, and, weak-kneed, he rose to his feet.

Eren let Armin direct and lead him in a haze for the rest of the night. He and Armin dragged the body into a shadowed alleyway nearby. Armin made Eren remove his blood stained jumper and throw it in a bin. The two of them took a large, plastic sheet and a shovel from a construction site. They wrapped the body in the sheet, and under the cover of night, carried it in an exhausting trek through hidden streets, and into the graveyard at the outskirts of town. They dug up a fresh gave, dumped the body inside it, and buried it.

That night, everything had turned out okay. Eren imagined Armin’s gentle hands cupping his face. _You have done this before. You can do it again._ All he had to do was follow Armin’s plan and simply…adjust it a bit. Just like he’d done for his jobs.

If he left the body, would it be found? Did anyone use this flat? He doubted Braid Beard lived here, but… He looked around.

The open kitchen had a pack of cereal on the counter, and two mugs sat on the plastic table in the sparse living room.

It might just be Braid Beard’s place, but it could very well be some kind of meeting place. Leaving the body here would be too risky.

He started to get up, and a vicious burning sensation tore through his right thigh. He hissed, and slumped back down. He looked at his thigh. Surrounded by a warm, dark stain slowly spreading closer to his knee, was an almost horizontal tear the size of his middle finger. Through the torn fabric, a black wound oozed blood.

 _Oh fuck of fuck oh fuck…_ A bout of dizziness washed through him. He closed his eyes and inhaled several deep breaths until the dizziness receded a little. Feeling sure he wouldn’t barf, he opened his eyes again.

His thigh throbbed viciously. His whole body vibrated with each throb. Blood continued to seep from his wound, staining his jeans to his knee already. He needed to tie something around it, and halt the bleeding. His own sleeve, or the dead man’s sleeve? Imagining undressing the man of his leather jacket made Eren’s stomach churn, but it wasn’t like the man had any use for his clothes anymore. And it wasn’t the first time he’d taken dead people’s clothes.

Eren picked up his knife, and started crawling towards the corpse. Every time his knee hit the floor it sent icy shocks up his thigh. He bit down cries of pain, and dragged his injured leg instead. He sat down by Braid Beard’s shoulders, pulled the sleeve off one arm, then the other. With a burst of strength, he tugged the jacket free from underneath the man’s back.

Breathing heavily, Eren sank back down onto his backside. He picked up his knife in one hand, grabbed the sleeve of the man’s shirt, and cut along the shoulder seam. His hands trembled, and he accidentally cut into the skin underneath several times. He set his knife down and used both hands to tear the sleeve off.

He slowly extended his injured leg, and eased the makeshift bandage around his thigh. He steeled himself, and tightened it. Electric throbbing shot through his entire leg. He swallowed a shaky cry. He tied the knot quickly, before his hands could begin to tremble again.

Dark red seeped through the thin flannel. One sleeve wasn’t enough. He needed more fabric.

He dragged himself to the man’s other arm, repeated his cutting process, and wrapped the second sleeve around his thigh. Small dark dots appeared on the second layer of his makeshift bandage as well. He could start cutting into the man’s thick denim trousers, but could he really afford to keep using strength on cutting up fabric?

He didn’t know what time it was, he couldn’t see through the boarded up windows. He needed to dispose of the body while the streets were still mostly deserted, and then get the hell home.

He put his knife in the left pocket of his jeans, rummaged in the dead man’s pockets and found the key. Keeping pressure off his injured leg, he rose to his feet. He looked down at the front of his jacket. Red splatters glinted wetly on it like a pattern meant for teenage fashion. He couldn’t risk being seen like this. He removed his jacket, turned it inside out, and tied it around his hips so it covered up the bloody flannel bandages around his thigh.

The chill air harshly penetrated his shirt.

He shivered, but had to endure it. He hopped choppily on one leg over to the torch by the corner and picked it up. He would certainly need it to traverse the stairs. He limped to the door, unlocked it, and stepped onto the shadowed landing. Just to be safe, he locked the door behind him. He tucked the key safely into his right pocket, and felt a scrap of paper. Oh…his identification paper he’d brought to buy cigarettes. He couldn’t risk losing that here. He pushed the folded up paper further into his pocket, and pointed the torch down the stairs.

Darkness swallowed the bottom of the stairwell, like an illustration from Eren’s old children’s horror book that depicted a passage leading into a dungeon.

But this was no children’s story. He took a deep breath. He put his free hand against the wall, lighted his way with the torch in the other, and took one tentative step after another. When he reached the bottom, he wanted to collapse in a heap, but he forced himself to keep going. Pieces of paper crunched and rustled under his feet. He crossed the room full of mattresses, and limped through the dirty kitchen. He turned off the torch, and stumbled through the backdoor, and out into the dark alley.

He set course for the construction area he’d passed earlier. He threaded through narrow winding streets. He had to put some weight on his injured leg to keep a steady pace, and throbs shot through his leg and all the way up to the back of his head. His teeth clamped down. He couldn’t afford to take it slow. He listened for footsteps, and peeked around corners.

By the time the scaffolding came into view, Eren’s breathing was labored.

The glassless windows of the unfinished stone buildings looked like gaping mouths ready to suck Eren into the pitch black depths inside.

Eren ignored a wave of shivers, picked out his window, and hoisted himself up onto the ledge. He dropped down on the other side inside the building, and made sure he landed on his good leg. He took out the torch and lit it.

Nine-feet away from him, through an open doorway, in front of an empty reception desk, blue plastic sheets covered the floor.

Eren staggered to the sheets. They were twice Eren’s height in length and width. He picked one, bent down, and began rolling it up. The sheet crunched, and the sound echoed in the empty space. Eren prayed no one was around to hear it. He finished up, and turned off the torch again. The light might attract unwanted attention. With the rolled up plastic sheet under his arm, he wormed back out the window.

He stumbled his way back down the streets. His chest heaved heavily with each breath. His head swam. He paused and leaned against a wall for a few seconds, then forced himself to keep going. He feared he might throw up, but he feared being discovered even more. What time was it? He tried to guess the time by the darkness of the night, but couldn’t think straight.

In a blur of cold sweat and steady throbs of pain, he found his way back to the abandoned building. Once inside, he lit the torch. Climbing the stairs felt like climbing a steep, rocky mountain. By the time he reached the top and trudged over to the body, his legs shook.

He sank to his knees next to the body, and forced deep breaths into his tight lungs. His body burned too hot. Beads of sweat cooled on his face, and clung to his back. Everything under his bandage felt wet, hot, and searing. But he couldn’t rest for long. He pushed strength into his legs and rose back up. He rolled the plastic sheet out across the floor next to the body.

He shuffled around the body, lowered back to his knees, rolled the body onto the sheet and wrapped the sheet around it in like a candy into a wrapper. A human-sized and human-shaped wrapped candy. He crawled to the bottom edge, which extended almost three-feet beyond the rolled-up man’s feet. He folded the extra length over the body, and wedged it between the layers of the sheet.

His body felt like sludge, and he could melt onto the floor any second. One again, he pushed himself back up to his feet, then bent down and grabbed the corners of the plastic wrap. He took a deep breath and tensed his arms. He began dragging the wrapped-up man towards the stairs.

The body might as well have been a statue.

Eren had no choice but to make full use of both his legs. His injured leg throbbed heatedly. He did not feel up to dragging the body down the stairs. He gave the body a hard shove.

The body slid and thumped down the stairs, disappeared into the shadows, and stopped with a thunk.

Eren descended the stairs the same way as last time, and dragged the body through the mattress room. Paper rustled and collected under the plastic, but Eren didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping his own body moving. He dragged the body through the kitchen, opened the door and peered outside. He couldn’t see anyone in the dark alley. He listened. All he heard were the faint sounds of water dripping from drainpipes, and the whistling wind.

Eren pulled the body outside. The plastic scraped harshly against the threshold and the cobbles. His morale sunk. Dragging the body through town would make too much noise. He had to carry it. His injured leg pulsed as though anticipating the upcoming strain. He hauled the body over his left shoulder. His right thigh howled at him, and his knees threatened to give out. He bit down hard, and waddled through the alley.

The heavy body over his left shoulder tipped Eren sideways. He leaned towards the right. Thankfully, the brute force of the weight pressed down his uninjured leg. But that was only a tiny mercy. His makeshift bandages and jeans were soaked. His right leg felt like it didn’t belong to him anymore, yet remained attached to him. A throbbing weight, somehow moving under his will.

The moonlight which had earlier provided him a little relief from the night had now turned against him.

If anyone walked by… A cloudy, impenetrably dark night would have been splendid. His chest felt like it was wrapped tight with thick rope. He stumbled, bumped into walls, and struggled to right himself. His vision blurred. He lost count of how many times he thought he might pass out. He wouldn’t be able to make it to the graveyard. It was too far away. He wouldn’t last like this.

Where else…Where else could he possibly hide the body? He didn’t dare risk leaving the body in an alley. It would be found sooner or later. He needed to hide the body where no one would fine it, like underground or…under water. The canal. It wasn’t too far from here. It ran through town, most of it shallow, but there were a few deep parts. Deep enough to hide a tied-down body. He could make it—had to make it.

He set course for the canal. Armin’s smiling face drifted through his mind, encouraging him to keep going. _Almost there…almost there…just a little further…_

A bang of male laughter echoed from around the next corner. Cheerful talking and clicking foot steps followed.

Eren’s tired heart jumped to his throat. He halted. He desperately looked around for somewhere to hide, but the narrow street had no alcove. He would have to backtrack and hide behind the corner. He turned, and hobbled as fast as he could under the crushing weight of the corpse.

The voices became louder.

Eren staggered faster, and the body started to slide from his shoulder. _Nonono!_ He couldn’t lose the body here. He stopped, and adjusted it back in place.

“Hey, you!”

Footsteps approached him.

Eren’s stomach jumped. He froze. They had seen him. They were coming towards him. He couldn’t let them see his face. He had to escape. But he couldn’t run with the corpse over his shoulder weighing him down. He slid the plastic-wrapped body from his shoulder, and sprang into a limping run. Throbbing sparked up his leg. He darted round the corner, and forced himself to keep going.

Male voices rang out.

“Oi, wait!”

 “What the hell is that?”

“Shit, is that a body in there?”

Eren hobbled as fast as he could away from the cursing men. His right leg screamed, and a cold claw gripped his guts. He’d failed. And he’d been seen. He didn’t want to think about what would happen next. There was nothing left to do. His leg wouldn’t last much longer. He had to get away. _Armin, I wasn’t strong enough._

With his gaze fixed on the ground, he rounded another corner, and bumped into something moving. He looked up and took a quick step back.

“Watch it.” A young man glared at Eren. A piercing glinted on his lower lip.

“S-sorry!” Eren hunched his shoulders, and staggered a couple of steps back.

“You bet you are. Damn druggie.” The man turned away with a scowl, and stomped past Eren.

Eren staggered faster down the street.

A layer of black clouds covered the moon, and everything darkened.

Eren didn’t know how long he bumbled towards home. His legs moved on autopilot, carrying him even though his body felt dragged down like a sack of flour.

He felt like he’d been walking for hours when his feet hit the little concrete part in front of the flat. He put a hand against the cold door and leaned against it. He rummaged in his pocket and withdrew his key. He put the key in the lock and stopped. Armin and Mikasa…they would be asleep in the living room. If they saw him like this… How could he possibly explain it to them? He gulped.

Fat drops began pelting down on his back.

The bathroom. He’d go straight for the bathroom. He turned the key, pushed open the door, and limped inside.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, your comments are warmly welcomed. I love hearing from you, so feel free to share your thoughts.   
> I wish to improve and make the best story I can for you.


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